#not someone to push around and demean

[itsabardknocklife]

Going into the Rolan tag is always such an experience for me, because I often get the feeling I'm the only person picking up Dom vibes from him.

[blorbocedes]

He touched the landass.

self soothing behavior. lando is max's emotional support squish toy...

[yan-randomfandom]

Yandere!Stanford Pines x Doctor!GN!Reader

warnings: obsessive thoughts, implied self harm

If I made one for his brother, then I should also make one for this silly guy. Bro is needy just like his twin

Ford is an intellectual who can invent new machines, find new discoveries, and defend himself from danger.

But you know what he can't do?

Rest. He never seemed to take a break from his obsessions.

Which is why, in the middle of the supermarket, as he was waiting in line to pay for his products, Ford dropped dead. Not literally dead (but it might as well be called that), he suddenly fainted after years of exhaustion caught up to him.

Ford slowly woke up to the gentlest touch he had ever felt in years.

"You're awake," you murmured, settling your palm on his forehead. He's still warm.

He tried to sit up, but you quickly pushed him down again. "Hey, you can't do that! Your body is completely debilitated!"

"Debilitated?" he mumbled, continuing to wince when he heard you tell a nurse to call the Pines family. He briefly glanced around, realizing he's in a hospital.

You turned back to him, your stern eyes fixed. "You're lucky I, a doctor, was back there. I did a check up on you, and good god, your body is filled with wounds, some open, and there's a concerning underwhelming amount of essential chemicals!"

Ford paused before huffing, his eyebrows furrowed. "Look, I'm sorry, but I can handle myself—"

"And the way your wounds are treated is nothing short of clumsy! It's like a middle schooler did it!"

Welp, you made him speechless. Did he seriously get compared to a middle schooler?

And yet, whatever you just said or did that day, Ford couldn't get you off his mind. He blankly stared at his scars when he got home on the same day.

It got worse when his twin brother, Stanley, decided to personally hire you to take care of him after another episode of fainting. Initially, Ford was very annoyed, but as time went on, he learned to appreciate you.

Maybe more than appreciate, really. He found himself wanting more of your care.

Your company was surprisingly pleasing. You and Ford talked more about the human body, which is admittedly a little neglected since he was too focused on science and magic on the outside. He never really had anatomy in mind.

When you perform your treatment on him, Ford can't help but feel... needy. A strange feeling of want.

You took a curious look at his extra finger, rubbing your thumb over it. He melted under your touch. "Interesting."

Again, he's never felt careful and gentle hands on his skin for over 30 years. (Dipper has sweaty hands. Mabel is quite jittery. Stan has the roughest skin anyone can have.)

It's a nice change of pace. The way you handle him.

Heck, he usually doesn't like it when someone 'demeans' him (this is about you comparing him to a middle schooler), but you're different. You can't keep your mouth shut, can't you?

Well, he certainly relates to that.

Besides, you make it up to him with praises during the painful parts of treatment. Such subtle words, yet he folds so easily.

Dipper noticed he's becoming more... sloppy during their missions. His grunkle has more injuries than usual.

Then again, Ford is really the only one forcing himself to work. No matter what the rest of the Pines say.

Dipper's mainly just making sure he won't die. Maybe the fact that he's old is catching up to him?

"I might have to keep this up for the rest of my life if you keep this up," you sighed, shaking your head as you dabbled some ointment on his wound.

Ford chuckled, staring at your concentrated face. "Maybe I wouldn't mind."

[aliidarling]

using you

RICK GRIMES X fem!reader

nsfw content — scroll if uncomfortable!!

summary: rick takes his anger out on you after lori's death because he's a self projecting loser and wants u really bad

warnings: p in v, no foreplay, rough sex, pussy slapping, age gap, degradation, mean rick, fingering, anal threats LOL, self projecting rick, old lonely rick, sweetish rick at the end ig

btw thank u everyone for sending me ideas for male manipulator rick pt.2 :) I'm definitely gonna take these into thought and write sum

i wrote this in three sittings like a week apart so some parts might not match up...

nsfw content below!!

Rick hadn’t come up from the basement of the prison in almost two days. No one had seen him, leading everyone to question if he was even alive anymore.

The death of Lori had impacted him. The atmosphere was tense, and not many words had been spoken. No one wanted to go down to comfort Rick, not wanting to get snapped at. Angry Rick was something else.

Hershel was the one who recommended you to go down and talk to Rick. At first, you were against it, because why? Carl was his son, Glenn was the first one he met out of everyone, and Daryl was like his brother. There was no reason why you should. You were just one of the younger girls in the group.

“Because he has a soft spot for you, sweetheart.” Hershel says gently, sighing and rubbing his temple. Your brows furrow as you think about his words.

“What? No— Rick hates me,” You scoff.

Every time you had tried to talk to the man he’d order you around and be cold to you, never letting you breathe without getting a stupid scolding. It was walking on eggshells around him.

“No, no.” He chuckles, brushing his hands through his thin white hair. He sits up. “He cares about you in his own little way, okay? You’re the only one here he wouldn’t hurt. Not that he’d hurt anyone else— but…” He groans. “You know what I mean.” 

You frown at him, picking at your hair. You reluctantly stand up, tossing your jacket on top of your shirt. “If I don’t come back in an hour, you know what happened.” You grumble dramatically.

He rolls his eyes and waves you off, giving you a little grateful smile.

A few minutes later, you were walking down the staircase into the boiler room, a frown painted onto your expression. You could hear angry muttering and the sound of metal clattering.

Just on your way here you had heard him yelling, you didn’t know at who. It worried you, was he already going crazy? Or was someone else down here with him?

As you walk inside the small, dark room, a messy-looking Rick comes into view. His hair was messy, his curls damp with sweat as he grumbled angrily to himself, leaning against a table.

He quickly turns at the sounds of your footsteps, hands on his hips as he narrows his eyes at your figure. What the hell were you doing here? Did no one get the message that he wanted to be left alone?

“What.” He huffs firmly, his body language cold and distant. He was always mean to you, but this just felt different, like he was a ticking time bomb. It made you shudder as you nervously picked at your hair, stepping closer.

“You’ve been down here for a while, Rick. Everyone’s getting worried.” You said softly, looking up at the older man through your lashes. It felt weird to be so nice and caring to him, he had just lost his wife— you felt bad. Horrible, even.

And a part of you made your guilt ten times stronger knowing you were still attracted to him throughout this whole mess. Even though he had pushed you away so many times, called you names, and ordered you around like a child, you felt connected to him. Like you wanted more than a simple friendship.

But the fact he was mourning his wife's death and all you could think was how good he looked with his shirt half-buttoned and his curls messy? God, you were a horrible person.

A dry chuckle leaves him, the sound echoing in the room, making you shiver. His demeaning attitude towards you has you shrinking, wanting the walls around you to swallow you whole as long as that meant you didn’t have to be alone in a room with him.

“So worried they call you down here out of everyone else?” He scoffs.

Ouch.

“I’m just trying to be here for you, you don’t have to be such a jackass.” You sneered at him.

Once the words left your mouth, you felt kinda bad. He was struggling with his wife’s death, and here you were being rude to him.

A small sigh left you as you stepped forward, hesitantly placing your palm on his bicep, trying to give him a little bit of comfort. It was the least you could do, right? You had managed to screw up your entire friendship with this man, but maybe you could turn it around starting… now?

As he feels your touch on his bicep, he turns to you quickly in response— almost as a reflex— and presses you against the table aggressively. A yelp leaves you as you find yourself being cornered by the large man, looking up at him in shock.

Never mind, jeez.

“You wanna be here for me?” He growled, his hand going to hold your throat, not squeezing but keeping it there as a warning not to cross him.

You give him a shaky nod, not knowing what to say or do that wouldn’t cause his temper to blow. It already blew.. But you knew what he was capable of, and you were scared of getting on his bad side more than you already were.

“Use your words.”

“Yeah, I wanna help you.” You press your lips together nervously, giving him a hesitant nod.

His eyes darken, looking you up and down and weighing the options. He hums lowly, his hands slowly wrapping around your waist, his fingertips pressing into your skin through your shirt.

“Huh.” He can’t help but smile at you, but not a sweet one. A mocking grin. You shuddered.

“How about you start off by bending over that desk then? Since you wanna be good for me so badly.” He laughs darkly, flipping you around smoothly and kicking the back of your knee.

You stumble slightly and find yourself bending over the edge of the desk, a huff leaving you as you flinch in surprise. Instinctively, you try and straighten yourself but he keeps one of his hands pressed on your lower back.

“What are you doing? You know this isn’t what I meant—“ You say breathlessly, not having the power to fight back for some odd reason. The position had you tingling between your legs, your stomach in knots and your mouth dry.

You felt ashamed to be so into this. He was coping in an extremely unhealthy manner— but could you even stop him if you tried? Did you want to?

He ignores your words and grasps the back of your jacket, pulling it off and leaving you in your spaghetti-strapped tank top. It was hot in the prison, could you blame yourself for dressing in thinner clothing?

“Always dressed like a fuckin’ slut, begging for attention from me. Think I don’t notice? Hmm? How you’re always nagging me and trying your damnest to spend time with me?” His words leave him harshly as he leans over to push your hair over your shoulder, leaving your back empty for him without any distractions.

“Don’t say that.” You mutter softly, eyes fluttering as you feel his breath brush over your skin. Goosebumps appeared on your smooth skin, lips pressing together to conceal the heavy exhale you wanted to release.

“Why? Because you know I’m right?” He chuckles dryly. His hands rub over your back, grabbing the end of your top and pulling it up to bunch over your chest. Your heart skips a beat and you try to pull away, but he only pulls you closer, pressing his crotch firmly against your butt. He sighs in relief at the friction, grinding subtly.

The next few minutes are him just grinding against you from behind, muttering a mean ‘shut up’ whenever you’d let out a noise. This was for him. He didn’t care about you— didn’t care that he was leaving you needy and aching, all he wanted was to relieve himself.

“Take your pants off.” He grumbles, leaning back just a few inches to unbuckle his belt. He smoothly pulls it out of his jean loops, and then unzips his fly and pulls his jeans down. He’s fast and aggressive, and soon enough his hard cock is pressing against his lower tummy, his tip red and throbbing.

You blink in surprise, but you try and process his words quickly. Okay. He wants your pants off. This was for him to feel better, just take your damn pants off, dumbass. Don’t make his day worse.

Shakily, you pull your pants down to your ankles, your butt in front of him with your panties hugging your curvy hips. He stares down at you, eyes narrowing at the sight of the damp spot on your panties.

“Slut.” He kicks your legs open with his foot before landing a harsh slap against your pussy, making you cry out. Your brows furrow as you try to suppress your noises as he keeps going at it, his rough palm delivers harsh strikes to your sensitive area.

“O-Ow— Rick!” You whine, wiggling your butt as the slaps have you growing more and more wet. This was so embarrassing!

“Had I known you like gettin’ that pussy slapped I would have done it a lot sooner, sweetie.” He coos mockingly, a low snicker leaving his throat. He parts his hand from your panties. His large fingers grasp into your panties and pull them to the side, nudging your legs further apart and aligning himself with you.

“Take a deep breath, baby.” He huffs before thrusting himself inside you with one stroke, burying himself to the hilt. Your body tenses immediately, eyes watering at the large stretch your insides felt at the intrusion.

You immediately let out a shaky cry, clawing at the table for something to hold onto as you try and adjust to the feeling. His girth was thick, ripping you apart. The lack of foreplay and prep had you wincing.

“Awww, did I hurt ya’? Poor thing, little hole must burn sooo much.” His words sounded so mean, his dark eyes gazing down at your figure. He scanned each inch of your body. Your arch, your hips, waist, your hair— it all looked so good. He wanted to ruin you.

You struggle to speak as you feel him sit nice and snug inside you, your sight going blurry. You whimper like a pathetic puppy into the desk, the cold steel making you cringe and squirm. If he was gonna force himself in your pussy, couldn’t he of at least done it somewhere more comfy?

“S-Screw you,” You groan lowly, your eyes already rolling back. And he hasn’t even started to move yet.

“Mhmm, s’okay sweet girl, I’ll get there.” He hushed you gently. Your doughy flesh is so soft to his rough palms, making him smile as he grips your waist a little tighter. He uses your waist to hold you down as he starts to slowly pull out, leaving just the tip before slamming himself back inside. Not even a rag in your mouth could stop the moan that leaves you, your body wincing in a mix of pain and pleasure.

The next few minutes are messy and full of whimpering and shushing, your body quivering as he keeps thrusting into your hole like there’s no tomorrow. You were just a stress relief for him at the moment— a pretty face with a tight cunt he could fuck for hours.

Yeah, he was mean to you even before he decided to fuck you in this boiler room, but that was only because he didn’t know how to handle his emotions around you! You were a sweet young girl with a cute face and a good rack of tits, always trying to talk to him when he had a wife and a son, could he even interact with you without getting scolded by Lori?

He let out a shaky grunt as he slams his hips into you over and over again, watching your perfect ass jiggle at the force he put into you. Your noises were perfect, he had spent probably hours imagining how you’d sound with him inside you. He couldn’t count the amount of times he had imagined you while he was in bed with Lori. He was a horrible husband, but he blamed you for it. You were the reason of his lack of loyalty, so he may as well punish you for it. You were pretty much asking for it the second you came downstairs with that pretty face.

“Fuck, fuck,” He groans, bending over to press his chest flush against your back and pressing himself against you. He wanted you to feel every damn inch of him, feel how deep he was inside your dumb little pussy and how he made you feel.

“You feel that? Huh? Feel how fuckin’ deep I am inside that needy pussy? Can feel you squeezing me, sweetheart, must feel so good, right?” He shushes your cries as he manages to push his cock deeper, his fat head brushing against your sweet spot that has you clenching down.

“Mhm, feels so good.” You sniffle. He giggled lowly at how pathetic you sounded, almost feeling the urge to comfort you for a second.

He’s wanted this for so long. Half the reason why he was spiraling after Lori’s death was because of the agonizing guilt he felt for still fantasizing about you when he had a whole newborn waiting for him. But now he had you, and he was not gonna let you go, and even if you begged and cried— he had already sunk his claws(cock) deep inside you.

His hand reaches to the front of your neck to grasp it and pull you tighter against him, giving your neck a little squeeze. He hums in approval at how your body tightens around him, his hips picking up speed.

“Good, good, jus’ like that, good girl,” He mumbled, squeezing his hand around your neck just a tiny bit more, loving the expression that fell over your face. A few more long minutes of him inflicting a fast and rough pace that expresses his self-projecting hatred towards you pass, the both of you out of breath and sweating.

“Can I cum? Please?” You whisper shakily, a soft moan coming from you as his thrusts continue. Your lips quiver and struggle to choke out words as you feel him repeatedly slam into your g-spot, eyes watering from the pleasure and your legs going wobbly.

“Oh, oh please, Rick—!” A loud moan escapes your throat before you have time to hold it back. You had been stripped down to a cheap whore bent over a table, but you didn’t care, it felt so good.

He answers your question by squeezing your throat, reaching forward to rub your clit. You clenching down on him has him groaning and almost stuttering with his thrusts, brows furrowing as he starts to get a little sloppy with his rhythm.

Without wasting any time, you feel yourself cumming hard around his cock and spasming, crying out at the force. A few more tears slip as you whimper onto the table, shaky hands grasping at anything to hold onto it.

A crooked grin paints his face as he gazes down at your shaky figure, slowly pulling out and watching his cum drip out of your leaky hole.

He hums and gently picks you up and sits you down on top of the desk, parting your thighs open and pressing the cum back inside you. Your eyes widen slightly in shock as his large finger shoves itself back inside you, making you cry out at the sensitivity you felt.

“R-Rick,” You attempt to plead before he rudely shushes you, crumbling apart as he fingers you open brutally. More tears stream as he watches with an amused glint, taking in the sight of you crying as he shoves his fingers inside your pussy violently.

“You can take it, shush, be a good girl.” He mumbles, sliding them in and out smoothly without any stop, his other hand going to rub at your spent clit. He almost felt bad for you, but then he remembered you were the little brat making him think like an unloyal husband— and he resumed with his torture.

Once he has you coming apart on his fingers again, he slides them out of you and whistles meanly, smirking at his slick-covered fingers. He maintains eye contact with you as he brings them up to your mouth, tapping them against your lips.

“Please don’t.” You whine, trembling in embarrassment. Could this get any more humiliating?!

“Shut up and be a good fuck toy.” He grunts. You shrivel and slowly part your lips, taking his wet fingers and sucking gently, your eyes fluttering shut as you didn’t want to look him in the eye while doing this.

After cleaning his fingers, he parts from you and gives you a once over, scowling.

“You’re not too bad when you’re not being an annoying fuck, y’know. Maybe you should bend over for me more often.” He sniggers, pulling his jeans back up and buckling his belt back on. He tidies up his appearance and gives you a side-eye.

“I’m so telling Hershel.” You grumble, struggling to pull your pants back on with limping legs. He rolls his eyes and aggressively tugs them back on for you. You flinch at the force and almost stumble onto your ass but you eventually have your clothes back on you because of his help. You give him an awkward smile, and he just glares at you in return.

“…I guess you could say I did help you, right?” You grin sheepishly, before gasping softly as he pulls you in for a kiss. He mutters a small “Shut up,” against your lips before interlocking his with yours, his hands wrapping around your waist and pressing your body flush against his.

He parts slowly from you, a small saliva trail showing before dissolving mid-air. He stares down at you, before nudging you in the direction of the exit.

“Don’t tell anyone about this, kay? You tell a soul and I’ll shove it in your butt next time, brat.” He scoffs, turning away and gazing back at the wall like the depressed old man he is.

You can’t help but smile as you walk away.

Next time, huh?

You were a little delusional, but why the hell not?

[distantdarlings]

TEETH TO BONE // t. nott

RATING: PG-13 / 1.3K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Reader Insert (no gender-specific details)

+ SUMMARY - You come to your best friend's dorm room after not being able to sleep. He makes a decision that changes your relationship forever. *Theo's POV* (Romance)

+ WARNINGS - Heavy kissing, a bit of petting, someone kisses w/o that person's permission

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Touch - Troye Sivan

---

The sheets in the morning always caught Theodore’s attention. In those early hours when the sun's warm shades had not yet overtaken the cool, the birds still refused to sing, and the residents of the castle hadn’t yet awoken. It was a rarity for him to wake up at this time naturally—it didn't always have the same effect. But when he opened his eyes to the milky hue that stained the floor and felt the luster within his sleep-filled eyes, an instant feeling of comfort washed over him. This was always quickly followed by an unnerving question of life itself and the reason for these comforting feelings, but before this came along, there was comfort. 

It was the folds in the sheets that traced over his legs and the imaginary body lying next to him; the soft dancing of eyelashes over cheeks; the supple pink of another’s lips--someone in particular, not just anyone; and coffee with just enough cream to where it matched an old pair of corduroy trousers. These were all things that made him feel equally as comfortable as that morning light. The lips, though, were an image that often flashed in his mind. As were the sheets and the unfairly long eyelashes and the corduroy trousers. Each day, Theo found himself aligning more things in his personal thoughts to that of someone like you. He might hope to consider you his love but would never truly do so for the looming sense of rejection that hung over him like a rain cloud.

The door in the corner creaked with a symphony of old wood and rusty nails. It wasn't a pleasant thought, but the sound was as nostalgic as the crackles within the records that he and you used to play, sitting on the floors of each other's bedrooms. Theo smiled gently at the memory, remembering the feel of the hardwood beneath your ankles and the looks in both of your eyes. If he wasn't crazy, he might have thought that this is where his heart first opened up to you. Where he first realized how badly he craved your touch instead of any of the girls or guys his mates eyed in town.

"Teddy," a whisper like crinkling parchment tickled the shell of his ears. Only you could call him that.

"Are you awake?"

Theo pushed himself up into a sitting position, feeling the sheets tangle around his feet in a new position than they previously had. His eyes met that of a bedroom floor record player in an embrace with a cotton touch. You smiled, showing off the teeth that Theo found so endearing. You shifted a bit in the doorway, rubbing your bare thighs together in an attempt to gain some warmth. You were still wearing the shirt and the shorts that you’d been in the night before—the ones that made his stomach kiss his chest. 

He caught onto your sense of embarrassment and beckoned you over, your nightshirt a bit too big for you. The sleeves reached the tips of your fingers in a rather demeaning manner. You sauntered over before stepping into his bed, crossing your legs and placing your hands comfortably between each thigh. The shirt you wore was ill-fitting just as his but in a different way. The cotton material lay against your chest which didn't dare to touch. Your skin pulled tight over your bones and made a passionate embrace with the fabric as it hung off you in a rather languorous way that caught Theo’s attention rather quickly. The collar delicately caressed your exposed collarbones that cut like knives and burned like fire in the pit of Theo’s stomach.

"Alright, love?" Theo whispered, his voice cracking from the pressure of the morning. You looked down, a few strands of hair falling into your eyes. You didn't seem to notice.

"Couldn’t sleep, I reckon . . . ," you spoke just above a whisper, the tenor undertones in your voice making the hair on Theo’s arms stand up. Without thinking, the brunette swiftly swiped the hair out of your eyes with a single thumb, just barely brushing your skin with his own. His eyes found yours in a breathless escape, attempting to analyze what you were feeling. Theo could hear his heartbeat in his ears and he wondered if you could hear it as well. His hand fell limp at his side in an embarrassed fashion.

Your mouth opened as if to speak but closed once more. You seemed to be debating on whether or not to say what was dancing on the end of your tongue. Theo desperately wanted to hear what you had to say. He wanted to know if it was a negative or a positive that he had touched you in that way. 

"Teddy—" you began but Theo pressed his lips to yours before you could finish. It hadn't been something he’d thought about before doing. He just did it. His hands remained tightly pressed into his lap, not wanting to push himself onto you any further. He felt bad for doing this in the first place, he just needed to feel the person he'd known for so long in the way he desired. He expected you to push him away or run or something but by the time he realized those things could possibly happen, he knew that this kiss had been extended much too long to be a hormone-fueled act of blind passion. 

Your lips no longer remained dormant but moved against his. Yours cradled his bottom lip with a gentle touch—much too gentle for him. He pressed his hands to either side of your face, pulling himself onto his knees. You rested comfortably between his thighs, knees dug into the mattress, as your shoulders were against the headrest. He steadied you, feeling his fingers trace the lower part of your posture. Theo groaned breathlessly into your mouth, politely insinuating that he needed a breath. 

You slowly pulled away, your lips joined in a messy trail of spit that disconnected as you rested your forehead against his. Blue eyes met yours in a frenzied heat of repressed desire as dry throats held the hunger of fasting lovers. Your thumb gently stroked his cheek, eyes flickering down from his bewitching eyes to his swollen lips, painted with your love. 

"More."

It was a single whisper. Nothing too dramatic or emotional, just the hoarse beg of a starved man. You took Theo’s lips back onto your own, much more fervently than before, feeling his desperate breath against your cheeks. Theo’s hands fell to your hips, his fingers brushing the bare skin there. You winced into his mouth at the cold touch of his rings, your fingers tightening into his hair.

Theo pushed off from the headboard and gently laid you back on the bed. He hovered over you in a protective guard, shielding you from all other eyes in the outside world. His lips touched against your neck like a feather, only barely ghosting against your soft flesh. You knew that the man above was like a god and you worshiped him as such. Lips to skin, teeth to bone. The young god's hands held onto you like a lifeline, exhaling syllables packed with amour and white-hot lust in your ear. 

Theo’s hand slid delicately beneath your shirt, caressing the warm skin stretched over your ribs. You could feel his heart drumming through the rest of his body like a bomb ticking away. It teased you, daring you to take control. He wouldn't let you, though, you knew this well enough. The man in question slid down your body and pulled you by the back of your knees until your head was resting against the pillow. His knees lock you in place. You couldn't go anywhere even if you wanted to.

"Are you sure, love—" Theo whispered breathlessly.

"Merlin, Theo, yes," you spoke. You were surprised you even got the words out with the way your pulse was pounding in your ears. It knocked against your brain, imprinting a tattoo of lust within your skull.

If Theo died right now and the last thing he saw was you beneath him, pressing your lips against his undeserving flesh and tracing your fingers down every individual scar, freckle, and anomaly on his body, then he'd take it.

[missmisandrytabletalk]

I'm sure every woman in her lifetime must have wondered atleast for once about how most of these cuss words are associated with women and animals. I did too. Countless times actually. Even felt guilty about the times I blurted those words out loud in frustration. Contemplated but then spiraled back into uttering it involuntarily as a teen. It's like we are programmed by patriarchy to correlate women and animals with being useless, easy to tame and discipline. How we are made to refer women in a condescending tone as she is some sort of a male's property that got vandalised so now every other male deems her as a corrupted and vile woman. The ownership and control these moids boast about having over women and their bodies is disgusting. These moids need to keep the mothers and daughters out of their filthy mouths. And bitch which is literally a female dog I mean are we kidding? The dogs got more dignity than these degenerates. "You're such a cunt!" "Oh don't be a pussy!" Well bold of you to assume I'm not. The same degenerates of fucking mistakes who were pushed out of their mum's vagina still want to have a conversation about what's tougher??? the balls or the vags? The audacity to include divine and nurturing beings like mothers in your cuss words should be an abomination in itself.

Various studies show that males indulge in way more profanity than women. When they have no point to prove, they resort to profanity. When they want to demean someone, they resort to cussing. Male humour practically revolves around who will cuss out more slurs. They find out ways to mock women and make them feel like sex toys. The topic of discussion for males always remains the same. A dad who meets up with his childhood homies, a brother who invites his friends over to a sleepover, a son chatting with his college pals on the phone, a husband throwing a party for his male colleagues. They will unabashedly continue to uphold this status quo since it brews a sense of power in their heads. The idea of having power over women excites them.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Elite Serial Killer

Thinking about the rich hunting the poor plot of thousands of movies

Popular and inexplicably vain it’s a surprise he goes to your college at all

But because of his status and immense popularity you never quite got close to him

Only knowing about him because of gossip 

His existence doesn’t matter to you until the college plans to take everyone on a cross-country trip

That happens to be sponsored by an anonymous donor 

You somehow end up in a travel group with him and his most loyal groupies

You didn’t even know you were in the same class

But when the school asks for a payment he generously pays for all expenses

“If all it takes is a bit of pocket change to have these nerds do my homework, then I’ll pay for it!”

He scoffs in your face if you try to refuse 

having the principal tear your check in front of your face if you try to pay yourself

But you pack your bags prepared to get on the plane booked for the class only for one of the nicer groupies to stop you

“Uh, where do you think you're going?”

“To the plane?”

“Our plane is on the tarmac. We’re not getting packed in like a bunch of sardines.”

“But I already bought the ti-”

“Look nerd stop complaining before he leaves you.”

When you do get on of course it’s a shock to have an attendant nicely handle your bag 

Of course, you fidget as you watch the groupies casually sit in specific padded chairs

As though those were their designated spots 

You’re watching them so intensely you miss the grey eyes watching you

“You.”

“Huh? Me?”

“Where do you want to sit?”

“Uhm I’ll just sit over here.”

You randomly pick the spot farthest from them 

He scoffs again and snaps his fingers

“No, you won’t you’ll sit over here.”

The seat he’s pointing at is right beside him…

But a girl is already sitting there

You hesitate looking nervously at the girl who’s engrossed in her phone

Wille exasperatedly sighs before turning in his seat to kick the girl off it

“Ahh!”

Thud

It looked like it hurt

But no one reacts…at first

Before one of the groupies chimes in

“Move Piggie! It’s obvious Wille doesn’t want you here!”

The other’s laugh while ‘piggie’ slowly gets up moving her things she gives you a hard glare before moving to the row over

With Wille impatiently snapping his fingers you sit in the seat

Now being weirdly included in the conversation

Though it’s completely out of your realm of understanding they are seemingly including you

You don’t get the chance to ask  why he wanted you here but you couldn’t complain

When an attendant served you a hearty meal that happened to fit all of your likes and dislikes

You are made to hold someone’s bag or do the other’s assignments issued for the class but you can’t complain

Especially when ‘piggie’ is the one who keeps getting pushed around

Once the plane lands it’s constantly like this 

In museums, restaurants, and lectures 

The pattern continues and as expected you feel incredibly indebted to Wille

So of course you’ll look past the slightly demeaning tasks he sends you on

Or when the groupies need the opinion of a ‘commoner’ you answer

It’s never as bad as it is for ‘piggie’ 

Who ends up paying for some of the other groupies’ shopping sprees 

Or when someone deems their outfit ruined or out of style it’s ‘piggie’ who has to buy something new

You feel awful 

But you’re sure if you spoke up they’d absolutely leave you in this foreign country all alone

So you’ll try in another way

“Hey, I uh filled out an extra assignment if you’d like it?”

For once you might see them accept and start coming to you to talk

It’s nice 

To speak to someone more sympathetic to your situation

But things don’t really kick off until the last day 

And you by association are invited to the intense partying of your group who invite others from your college

There Wille demands that everyone in your group come to his vacation home where his family is 

To work off the hangovers and keep the party going he says 

He says it’ll be another week before you all head back to the college

Whether you drink or not you don’t mind the small extension on your trip 

after all, all of your expenses are paid for

So without being able to refuse you join the group  

a butler welcomes you as soon as the chauffeur drops you all off at the castle-like vacation home mansion

Unexpectedly there and looking at watching you all gawk are Wille’s family

His father, his mother, his older sister, and his younger brother

They all are just like him with long wavy hair and cattish grey eyes that seem to see all

They welcome the group but they’re honestly quite cold

You don’t mind all that much though

They’re polite enough for the first three days

But then as the end of the week approaches it just gets stranger

Not just for you but for the others as well

“H-h-hey did any of you guys notice Wille’s little brother has a lot of stuffed pets?”

“Really?”

“Well, did you see how that old man was looking at me? Creepy!”

Finally on the sixth day 

more accurately at midnight, the hunting really begins

Faced with Wille himself smiling wider than you could have ever imagined right along with his family with their own twisted faces

“You won’t believe how many social climbers cling to us like leeches! In our world. They have their protections and safeguards that stop us from bashing their brains in. But you–we could do that and so much more because no one cares about you. No one!”

It’s alarming, to say the least 

The dirt under your nails

The cries of the others

Wille continues

“But it's nice to imagine right? So we’re going to play a little game! You all get until midnight tomorrow to escape our property. If you do you get to keep your little worthless life. As a bonus, we’ll reward you an extra million for all the trouble! So, everyone ready to play?”

Screams are heard 

And a gunshot goes off

Someone else breaks down again

“Good energy, you have until sunrise.”

Like frightened deer you scatter

Part 2

[notjustjavierpena]

King

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: A happy return my dark sugardaddy!joel. It’s truly been too long. I hope you enjoy his dark and looming presence.

Summary: You do what it takes to get that car you’ve wanted for a while.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, sugardaddy/sugarbaby dynamics, abusive relationship, dom/sub dynamics, hint at virginity kink, power dynamics, reader calls joel ‘king’. daddy kink, light bondage, verbal humiliation, demeaning talk about sex work, praise kink, slapping, manhandling, dacryphilia, choking, rough piv sex, cream pie, no aftercare

Word count: 3.3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56477767

King

You run your fingers down over the front of your little black dress. It’s not your favorite but it doesn’t matter as it is not the centerpiece of your outfit, mischievously hiding an emerald green set of lingerie underneath it that peeks out from under the hem in the form of a garter belt. 

The silk underwear is new, bought only last week when Joel took you shopping for something new to tear to pieces. He’d chosen this color very carefully but you suspect that it had really been the heart-shaped gap between your legs that had made it sell itself. You knew instantly then, from the way his eyes had darkened and his suit pants had tightened, that it would become a useful weapon in getting what you wanted. Not that you would ever say it out loud (and you suspect that he knows) but Joel is sometimes easy to read, easy to wrap around your finger if you let him do as he pleases. He cares about your happiness and wants but he just doesn’t like to say it out loud, likes to play games so it looks like it is his idea. You’re happy to indulge him in this fantasy if you end up benefiting from it anyway. 

The black dress has no uneven ruffles but you still smooth it out underneath your palms. Then you head to his king-sized bed, toeing off your shoes, and decide to take a nap on your front until he gets home. He doesn’t even know you have a mission. 

Joel arrives home a few hours later. You wake up from the sound of his car crunching the gravel of his driveway, announcing his arrival like an impending hurricane that has consciousness to be merciful but only if it likes. You imagine the scene in your head; the sight of the car coming to a jarring halt, the door being opened and a single foot hitting the solid ground. 

You get out of bed immediately with your heart pounding at the thought of seeing him in just a moment. You leave your shoes behind as you exit the bedroom, tiptoeing out into the hall to peer down at the front door from the top of the enormous staircase. 

You can hear the jingle of his keys and then he is framed in the doorway, a dark shadow in contrast to the pining sunlight outside. He looks around for you for a moment, surveying his large home with a presence that fills the space completely. 

You try to steady your breathing so as to not reveal yourself to be spying on him, taking note of how he carries himself and what mood radiates from him. Sometimes it’s not the right time to ask for things. Sometimes it’s better to just spread your legs or open your mouth. 

However, Joel simply closes the door and lets out a tired, relieved breath, hand coming up to run across his forehead and using two fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose. His shoulders slump at this moment that he thinks he is alone, and you release a breath that you didn’t know you have been holding in as you find no clenched fists or angry muttering to himself. 

You make your way back to his bedroom and decide that sitting obediently on the edge of the bed, posing as someone who has been waiting to make his life easier, is the best way forward. 

It takes a little while before you hear his footsteps approaching outside the room. He opens the door slowly, entering the room with his still impressive demeanor. You give him a little smile and push yourself to stand, making your way towards him and pecking his lips when you stand in front of him. 

“Hey,” he says, only a hint of warmth in his tired voice. He reaches out to place a hand on your waist, his grip on your body feeling more like a claim than a comfort.

“You look tired,” you note and cup his cheek with your dominant hand. He closes his eyes briefly as if drawing something from your touch, draining something out of you. When he opens them again, they go down to take in your appearance. His grip on your waist tightens. 

“And you look…” he begins but is unsure how to compliment the effort you’ve put into your outfit that’s only for him. It seems like he genuinely wants to say something nice until his eyes narrow in suspicion, “What’s this for?” 

“I want a new car,” you let him tower over you as you decide to be bold in his fatigued state. Your fingers come up to peel the straps of your dress off, letting them droop down over your delicate skin for just a second before pulling the rest of the dress down to pool around your feet. You step out of it, don’t dare smile in case he might see it as smugness.

Joel looks unimpressed, disappointed even. He narrows his eyes further, a flicker of irritation across his face. He lets go of your body as if you are suddenly not interesting anymore, reaches to undo the knot on his tie, “Take one of my old ones. I have plenty… and with the way ya drive I shouldn’t be spendin’ so much goddamn money on somethin’ new and shiny because you’re bored of your other toys.”

“Joel,” you pout, entwining your fingers in front of you to make your arms squeeze your breasts together tightly while you push out your bottom lip. 

“That ain’t my name,” he replies and briefly looks down at your cleavage, “And what? The little princess didn’t like her pony? You’re so fuckin’ spoiled. A dumb cliché.” 

“Daddy,” you correct yourself and he nods once. You walk backward towards the bed, crawling onto it and making sure he watches you with every step you take, teasing the bottomless panties while doing it. You sit on your knees, his favorite submissive position, and smile with the hope of making his dick hard. It’ll make this so much easier, “Please. I can earn it. I can be a good girl.”

“Show me whatcha got,” he tells you, his tone letting you know that his attention is fleeting so you better make use of it now that you have it. 

You lay down on your front, propping yourself up on your elbows by resting your chin in your hands. You give him a sweet, doe-eyed smile, “Honey, you’ve had such a long day.”

“Nope,” he rejects the fantasy with a bored expression but still takes one step closer to the bed, “Try again.”

You try not to let him see the frustration on your face that your first fantasy fell through, recovering quickly by getting up on your slightly-spread knees. You grab the end of the bed, leaning forward to make your position even more provocative. 

“It’s my first time, Daddy,” you say with a pout, blinking your long lashes at him, “I’m a little nervous. I’m so wet between my legs. Can you tell me what’s happening to me?” 

Even as Joel swallows thickly, he shakes his head while he walks to the side of the bed. He stares at you from a few feet away from the edge, “No. Again.” 

You notice that he is getting hard but you know him well enough to tell that it is from the game that you are playing with each other right now and not from how you look or act. He gets off on the power he has over you, and you feel yourself getting excited from it too. 

Power. That’s the one. 

You crawl forward and lay down on your back on the vulgarly huge bed, staring up at him as you swing your legs out over the edge of it. You spread them slowly to make his gaze burn, revealing the heart-shaped hole in your panties and your soaked pussy that he can slide into if he wants. All he has to do is take a few steps forward and lift your thighs over his hips. 

Joel is too easy sometimes but mostly when he’s in one of his good moods. He stands beside the bed not a second later, looking down at you with awaiting eyes. You know exactly which words to make him fuck you until you cry, even feel a little silly that it hadn’t occurred to you the second you saw him enter the house. 

You give him a hazy look, holding your thighs open for him. His gaze bores into yours and you swear that he can read your mind. Even so, you don’t blink or cower under the look of God. 

“You’re my king, Daddy.”

“Attagirl, that’s better,” he praises to make your skin prickle and your chest feel ablaze.

Something in Joel’s eyes darkens with the idea of being superior in every way and the spark of fire that you have ignited only seems to grow when you don’t try to act like this isn’t the case but instead give in and let him know just how beneath him you are. Figuratively and literally. 

He reaches for his belt, unbuckling it with rough hands as he plans your demise in his head, all kindness seeping out of his face as if the way he praised you seconds ago simply didn’t happen. There’s something about those Shinigami eyes, teasing the border between fear and arousal. The urgency of his movements tells you that it’ll hurt for days but the pretty things that you’ll receive in return are worth not being able to stand upright for a while. You calm your beating heart by listing cars in your mind, choosing colors, models, and leather seats. 

You return to reality when you hear Joel’s fingers snap in front of your face. He sneers, kneeling on the bed with one knee and pulling off his tie completely, “Don’tcha fuckin’ think you get to decide what car you’re gettin’, honey. If you want one, I decide. We clear?”

You watch with pleading eyes, knowing you should say something but faltering because all you want to do is complain about his decision. There goes that dream of an expensive Aston Martin, the one that has kept you scrolling through your phone.

“You dare make your King wait?” He spits harshly when you don’t answer quickly enough, his eyes going practically black with rage. There’s no emotion in them anymore, not even when you whimper at his tone. He reaches out for your arms, violently yanking them towards himself so he can wrap the tie around your wrists, and the panic that you feel suddenly starts to make you cry. He ties a painful knot, securing your arms tightly until he pushes them over your head, “You don’t behave then you don’t getta touch.” 

You whine with tears at the corners of your eyes, looking away in shame in the way that he likes. However, it is actually a punishment because you do really like touching him - or at least just hold onto him, which you still can but you don’t dare move your arms back down - when he fucks you. The avoidance of his powerful eyes earns you a slap to your right breast, and you yelp in surprise. 

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you babble, barely able to croak out a coherent reply whilst you twist on the sheets from the unprepared sting to your chest. As you turn your body to the side, subconsciously trying to protect yourself from more painful strikes, you curl in on yourself and thus pull your legs shut, “You know best, I-I know. I understand.”

“Lie still, ya bimbo. I saw that hole between ya legs drippin’ wet, so you’re gonna lemme use it or you won’t get as much as a damn penny for your stupid new obsession,” he curls his calloused hands around your thighs until they dent the skin and maneuvers you onto back once more. He holds your legs open, knees pressing into the mattress until you feel as though your hips might dislocate. He stares down between your legs, smiling to himself at the heart shape in your panties. The stitching of it is coated in your slick, obscene in how creamy and white it is compared to the emerald color of the fabric. Joel makes a primal sound, “Daddy fuckin’ likes. God, I am gonna ruin ya, baby, ruin this well-behaved pussy.”

“Just for you, Daddy. It’s all just for you, I promise, money or not,” you cry quietly with your bottom lip sticking out, wiggling your hips as much as you can under his powerful weight to show how desperate you are for him. You want to tell him that he already has ruined you. Oh, how thoroughly he has ruined you and ruined everyone else for you. However, no one should make the mistake of thinking you have not let him, no, you have waited for him to find you in a sea of unimportant and tedious nobodies, and fuck, you love him for it. Even if he makes you cry. 

“That’s right, just f’me,” he smiles down at you almost tenderly whilst removing one hand from your thigh to undo his pants. You smile with wet cheeks, eyes glazed over as he hurries to get his cock out, the head red and angry from not having enough attention. You put on a show of looking like your life depends entirely upon whether he gets inside of you soon. 

“You want Daddy to fuck ya? Fuck ya so I’ll give in like I always fuckin’ do?” He aligns himself with you, gliding the thick head of his length through your soaked folds. 

“Please,” you choke out feebly when he starts to spear you on his dick, feeding you inch by inch with his girth until your whole lower body buzzes with greed. Your tied-up hands grip the sheets above your head, your breath shaky as he drapes your thighs over his hips when he has bottomed out inside you. 

Your voice wavers as he starts moving inside of you, setting a painful pace that has your eyes rolling back into your skull, your body thrashing, and your moans climbing in pitch like you are possessed. He knows what you like and you can feel he might be generous about it today. After all, you’ve put in so much effort to look nice and what would a King be if he couldn’t exceed in everything? That means even your pleasure.

He leans over you when you tighten your legs around his waist, rough hands settling on your hip bones so he can grind harshly into you. You beg for him, pleading his name as if in prayer again and again. His pelvis nudges at your swollen yet untouched clit. It causes you to scream and grab harder at the sheets as your orgasm builds up fast. You sob on the shaking bed as he puts more effort into each thrust. The head of his cock molds you to fit him each time, reaching something inside of you that has you sizzling with ecstasy in a way that no man has ever made possible before. You didn’t even know you could come like this, so intensely, before you met him but despite his talent, he is cruel even in his generosity. 

“You’re gettin’ fucked for a dumb car, you know that?” He growls above you, staring down at your wide eyes and open mouth. He moans with a smirk, “You know what that makes ya?” 

He keeps you on the edge with his thrusts, teasing an orgasm that he doesn’t allow to come yet. In the most frustrating of ways, you find that even if he exceeds in making you come, it’s not a given that he’ll just hand it over to you. Nothing is ever out of the goodness of his heart. You nod frantically as if it’ll make him think you are anything other than pathetic, “Yes! Oh God, yes, please.”

“Say it, sweetheart,” he demands, splaying a hand on your chest and letting it travel up to rest on your neck. However, he doesn’t squeeze to watch your face heat up in panic or push his merciless thumb into your windpipe. Instead, he waits for you to follow orders. 

“A whore, Daddy,” you reply with a whimper, driven crazy by the unreleased tension in your lower belly. You scrunch your eyebrows, “Please— ah, l-let me come.”

“That’s right, a filthy, little, gold-diggin’ whore,” he lets out a sound that’s a mix between a laugh and a moan. Those words make your cunt clench around his cock, walls squeezing enough to make him switch up his pace. His thrusts become sharp and erratic, sending you hurtling towards your high so quickly that you throw your head back and involuntarily twist your arms as much as you can. 

You come with Joel’s violent grip on your throat, with your tits bouncing in the skimpy outfit and your pussy gushing on his dick when your clit happily gets its way. He follows behind you, panting in exhaustion as he finally gets pushed over the edge by how you pulse around him with each beat of your fluttering heart. He is warm inside you, making a mess of your panties with how much already spills out of you around his girth. 

It’s intense even in its aftermath. None of you move for a moment and the body heat radiating from you to him and vice versa has you sticking to each other. Joel has a palm on the bed while the other grabs at one of your thighs that are still slung around his body. He strokes up and down to soothe you but only to slip loose of the hot choke of your pussy. 

You look up at him with a soft whimper when you’re left empty, knowing not to say any actual words yet. Silently, he unties your wrist and you gaze longingly at him as he leans over you to do so. He is so commanding even when he has not uttered a word. Above you, he looks so beautifully disheveled - some of his curls have fallen into his forehead, one sticks to the sweat there - and when he is done, he quietly starts unbuttoning his shirt. 

Once naked on his chest, he stares and thinks about something for less than a second. He is quick in his evaluation of the situation, finally stepping out of his bottoms. He takes his time to dig into the pocket of his discarded pants, retrieving his wallet and you wait as patiently as you can muster as the anticipation grows.

“I think that dirty fuck deserves an Aston Martin at the very least, don’tcha think?” He smiles knowingly but it doesn’t reach his eyes and places his sleek black card on the bed. You hear him mutter the word pathetic as you reach for the card but when you peek up at him, you can see the way he takes pleasure in rewarding you when you so successfully display the thrill you feel in earning it. 

Your body aches but you prop yourself up on your elbows, grinning with tear-streaked cheeks, “Thank you, Daddy.” 

Joel leans down over you once more, capturing your lips in a possessive kiss and tangling his hand in your hair to make you unable to pull back. He knows how to show you who is in charge but he sets it in stone when he only draws back an inch after breaking the kiss again. 

“Remember, baby,” he murmurs, voice raspy with sex, “You only get what you deserve and you’ve been very deservin’ today.”

“Can I shower with you?” You smile sweetly. It seems like the right time to ask for a bit of intimacy. 

Joel huffs a laugh and shakes his head, “No. Lie in it.”

He disappears after that. Your smile does too.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[kinopio-writes]

Hi! Would you be willing to write something for Adam with a sensitive reader?

Everyone knows that he is loud-mouthed jerk, even reader, and she loves him regardless, but one day he crosses the line and says something particularly mean that makes her cry. Like REAL mean. To the point that he pauses because he did not think before speaking (or, well, less than usual lol)

I'm happy with whatever format you feel like using! Thank you!

A/N: I will be more than delighted to write that for you. But would you excuse me for a moment? AHHHHHHDISJDIOEOFJSKXJND—I’m sorry; I love this idea so much. Reading ‘Adam with a sensitive reader’ got me hooked instantly. But I’ll go over that in the headcanons, along with the general stuff. And I’ll add a oneshot at the end that plays the exact scenario of Adam taking it too far.

Holy sh!t. I made it so that the reader being sensitive is their greatest but also weakest point and it turned out pretty angsty. Has a bit of hurt/comfort, though. Did I go overboard? Maybe. That’s why it took so long. Sorry, anon.

Words: 2,328 (edited)

Warnings: Sex is mentioned (only a bit, surprisingly), Angst, Adam being Adam

———

Adam w/ a Sensitive!Reader

• ha, this man is also sensitive himself

• well, sensitive about himself

• he feels his own emotions strongly, so he’s not the caring, easily able to pick up on other’s feelings and empathize type of sensitive

• you, on the other hand, are on the opposite end of the spectrum compared to Adam

• so you experience other people’s emotions just as strongly as yours

• you easily know what makes someone tick

• you’re selfless

• you’re able to admit your mistakes and apologize

• you’re respectful and actively listen to people when they talk about themselves

• you don’t push people down to make yourself seem better

• you try to make everyone feel good and comfortable

• you’re everything he isn’t

• because you fit in Heaven perfectly

• you deserve to be there

• and Adam knows that he doesn’t belong (subconsciously at least)

• you’re able to draw people in just for being yourself

• and he’s envious of it

• so he demeans you and is snarky about everything you do, and every time people give you praise or affection, he tries to divert the attention to himself or just stares at you with utter hatred from afar

• although all of that is just when he hasn’t even had a conversation with you

• after a while of being around you, he’ll cling to you because you give him the reassurance and validation he oh-so craves (he acts as if he didn’t hate you before. What do you mean? You two were always buddy-buddy!)

• you acknowledge all of the things he puts his worth to

• heck, you hang out with him—you sometimes even initiate it—willingly, and you’re genuinely interested in everything he has to say

• but he‘ll only hang out with you where no one recognizes you (so you don’t get all the attention)

• terrible transition here, but he notices that you mimic people’s expressions often

• he definitely makes fun of you for it

• and also mocks you

• up until he realizes that you do the same thing to him, too

• which is fine and all, if only you didn’t do that when he’s upset

• well, you mimic him when he’s joyous as well, but he (already subconsciously) expects you to. I mean, why wouldn’t you? He’s fucking hilarious!

• so you copying his negative emotions just stands out more

• and he…doesn’t like it

• that’s only really what he doesn’t like about you

• and the fact that you hog all the attention

• and the fact that people see you as perfect…

• buuut what happens when he gets to see a new side of you that isn’t exactly upholding that image?

———

Your phone lit up from your bedside table, brightening your otherwise dark room along with the soft glow of your halo. You only moved your eyes to the light, not wanting your tears to spill and dampen your pillows.

You had an inkling as to who was texting you this late—if the fact that your phone lighting up several times in the span of 5 minutes had anything to say.

When the texts stopped pouring in after a few seconds, you heavily sighed, wings ruffling. You resisted the urge to rub your face as you went to grab your phone.

HEY (2:34) HEY (2:34) HEY (2:34) ARE YOU UP? (2:35) I’M BORED (2:35) GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE (2:36) IF YOU’RE UP (2:37) ARE YOU? (2:38) DID I TELL YOU THAT BITCH WITH THE HUGE TITS GOT FIRED TODAY? (2:39)

Figured. Of course, it was Adam. He was the only person you knew who’d be awake at this ungodly hour. And the only person you knew who’d disturb your peace if it meant curing anything that ailed him. Which was now about boredom, it seemed.

You read a few of his texts displayed on your lock screen before tapping one of the notifications and opening the app, scanning the rest of the unread messages.

Adam was going on about ‘that bitch with the huge tits’—her name was Tiffany, you were sure—and how she was rumored to have slept with an archangel to assume higher authority. He also went on to complain about how he didn’t have the chance to bed her anymore since she was basically deemed an outcast and that he couldn’t be seen with someone like her.

You frowned, not believing any of it, but you didn’t have time to think about it enough when he began typing again.

SO YOU’RE AWAKE (2:43)

You barely finished reading the new message when another one popped up.

DON’T IGNORE ME BITCH (2:43)

You frowned deeper, quick to type out a reply.

i’m not (2:43) i was just reading your texts (2:43) don’t worry (2:43) i’ll be there soon (2:44)

When he stopped typing, you placed your phone back on the nightstand, sitting up on your bed as you carefully wiped away your teary eyes. You hugged yourself for a moment, wings functioning as a cocoon while a hand tugged on your hair.

Today had been draining—both mentally and emotionally. Just like the day before, and the day before that. But you didn’t want to think about it, lest you start to cry some more and smear your face with tears this time. What mattered was that everyone was back on their feet again.

Since you didn’t bother changing into your sleepwear when you got home, you only checked your face in the mirror to see if your eyes were puffy or not. You then took in deep breaths, holding up your drooping wings before putting up a charming smile.

You couldn’t stay in the bathroom for long, quickly leaving to tread the path to Adam’s.

•••

“BOO!” Adam’s masked face suddenly peeked from the corner of his hallway, earning an indescribable scream from you as you jerked back. He burst out laughing, brows creased in confusion but also amusement. He couldn’t even make fun of you for getting scared. “What the—what the fuck was that scream?”

Recovering rather quickly as you blinked, you only smiled at him. You were expecting him to wait for you on his couch as his front door was left unlocked, but you weren’t complaining; his action took away any drowsiness you just had.

When Adam didn’t hear you laugh with him, his laughter subsided as he opened his eyes to look at your face. He raised his brows and placed the back of his hands on his hips. “What’s up with you?”

Shit. There was no way Adam was seeing through you.

“Nothing; I just love hearing you laugh.” You heard a tiny squeak in response. “Anyway, what did you make me come over for? Surely not just to scare me.” You moved past Adam and tightly crossed your arms, entering his spacious living room.

“Pshh, fuck no. You’re so easy to spook. Though that was a first. Didn’t know you could hit high notes, (Name).”

You didn’t know what to say to his…compliment? And sort of insult? Was it really either of them? Should you thank him? But in a sarcastic way? No, you weren’t known for being sarcastic, so he might think you were being genuine and look at you weirdly. And it would also seem highly egotistical.

Not as if Adam had much to say about that…

You tugged at your hair when you caught yourself with those thoughts. Shit, that’s so rude! You can’t think that! You shouldn’t think that!

You settled on an awkward chuckle, making yourself appear smaller as you averted your eyes to his TV space.

It was different, certainly. The modular couch pieces were rearranged into a pit sectional. And it looked as though he had chucked a bunch of pillows and one large blanket as an afterthought. It appeared messy, but at least it looked cozy.

“What’s this?”

“Hm? Oh, well, since you were taking your sweet ass time coming here, I thought to switch things up a bit.” You flinched when his head appeared right on your shoulder. “What’d ya think?”

“It looks super comfy.” Adam wore a goofy grin behind you as you walked closer to the area and noticed that he already prepared snacks on the low table. “Is this a way to say you wanna do a movie marathon?”

“You know it, baby.” He flew past you and landed on the sofa, patting the space beside him with a smile you just couldn’t reject.

•••

Heaven’s natural light beginning to peek through the open windows indicated that it was already dawn. Thank goodness you didn’t have work today.

You two—or rather, Adam—had settled on watching the film series, Die Hard. Every single one. You didn’t mind, but you didn’t understand why Adam invited you over if you two were just going to rewatch the film series for the eighth time.

He had also been pretty immersed in the large screen in front of him, so he hadn’t attempted to converse with you ever since the first movie started. In all honesty, he could have just watched them all by himself.

But you didn’t question it. This time was the same as the last seven, after all. You always concluded that maybe he just wanted someone to watch movies with, no talking necessary. Even if the no-talking part sounded a bit out of character.

Was it though? Because he did that quite often. For instance, he constantly brought you along to whatever mundane errands he had to do during the weekdays and never really talked with you unless he found something cool and pointed it out.

Although, the earlier times you tagged along with him on his errands, he kept yapping his mouth off about the ‘totally awesome’ things he does. He talked about music, his own albums, his band, women, sex, and himself as the first-ever man.

As time went on, however, the talking was replaced with silence. You wondered if he just ran out of things to say or if he found it unnecessary to talk anymore.

You also sometimes wondered what was going through his head when he thought you didn’t see him glancing at you while he was doing something he believed was boring.

The sound of Adam’s stomach rumbling broke you out of your train of thought.

You both looked at each other blankly as if either of you were to blame.

He blinked to break the eye contact between you. “(Name), I’m hungry.”

You snorted, facing ahead. “You ate all of our snacks before the first movie even finished.”

“Don’t blame me.” He hugged the pillow he held tighter. “I’m still fuckin’ hungry, though.”

You hummed as you reached for your pocket. “Do you want me to—oh. I…I forgot my phone.” You frowned. You never forget to bring your belongings.

Adam merely stared at you, unblinking.

You averted your eyes and held your legs tighter. “Uhm, We could get delivery if you want. Can you lend me your phone?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He casually tossed you the device before laying on his back and looking up at you. “I’m down for anything.”

His phone hit your knee before you could catch it, silently landing on the cushions. “Are you sure?” You picked it up, opened his unlocked phone, and stared at his basic home screen.

He didn’t really use his phone that often to know that it could be changed. He only really used it to fetch one-night stands or occasional dates, text, play music aloud, look at outdated memes, take random blurry photos, and right now, order delivery.

“Totally.” His crow’s feet displayed on his mask as he puffed out his cheeks.

“Because last time you said that, you didn’t like what I had to pick.”

“That’s because the 5 ʼn 2 is so fucking overrated!” he suddenly started to complain. Your wings ruffled. “Jeez, I swear, every fuckin’ time I take a chick out and ask her what her favorite eatery is, basic bitches always go, ‘Oh, bREaD & fIsH, ceRTAinLy’ or ‘bReAD & FiSh’S a cLAsSIC’” He used his hand as a puppet to imitate their words before waving it. “Like, helloooo? Can’t you see the joint that’s literally on the other side of the street’s a hundred times superior? It’s cheaper, too, unlike Bread & Fish. Overpriced ass. You get me, right—?”

“Then you pick!” Adam jumped at your volume, and your eyes widened upon noticing yourself. You quickly gave back his phone as you turned your face away from him, and he slowly took it with a weird look.

“Shit, chill, (Name). The fuck’s up your ass?” He kept his gaze on you before turning to his phone.

While he was serious about his opinions of your bland tastes, he didn’t think it was that personal. Your preferences were the same as everyone else and that was boring. He was just being honest. And you usually didn’t take the things he said that seriously.

“Adam, I’m sorry,” you spoke up after a moment of silence and ran a hand through your hair. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“ʼs not a problem.” He was still a bit weirded out, but he was willing to shrug it off.

You insisted, however, “I mean it. I’m not mad at you.”

“Okay…?” he muttered when he saw a notification pop up from Lute. Her message consisted of how some of the exterminators got into a quarrel during roll call and the ones involved got injured in the process. She said she was going to discipline them.

Adam did not want to know what she meant by that and was most likely not going to stop by their place today.

“Really. I’m not. Sorry. It’s just that yesterday’s been…”

“Uh-huh…” At this point, Adam was not listening to anything you were saying. But when he still heard the static noise that was your words, he groaned. “Look, sweetie, I really don’t give a fuckin’ shit about your fuckin’ apology, ʼkay? I don’t fuckin’ care. Now what do you want?”

You saw Adam’s confused yet concerned expression after he looked up from his phone and immediately noticed that you were starting to cry. You instantly turned your face away as you carefully wiped your eyes.

“Sorry. Sorry. I’m not crying because of you.” You didn’t know if that was true. You didn’t know if you were crying because of his words or were crying because of everything else.

That was the first time he ever used a sweet petname for you in a long time. He only ever used that to demean or mock other people.

Shit. Stop thinking—you were going to cry more. But even after carefully wiping your eyes away, new tears kept flowing. You couldn’t stop. This was humiliating. You wanted to disappear. You didn’t want anyone to witness you in this state. It was mortifying.

“Shit.” Adam’s voice came out panicky as he held his hands out towards you, but he hesitated. Hesitated in what, he didn’t even know.

He…didn’t think you could cry.

Adam didn’t know what to do; this emotional shit wasn’t his thing. He couldn’t ask you to leave, he knew that much, but he didn’t want to leave himself. This was his place. Why should he leave?

So, he did the only thing he could do in this situation.

You suddenly felt something warm envelop you.

You didn’t look up, but you knew it was Adam. You could feel the texture of his robe on your hands and the side of your face. You could feel his hands on your shoulder blade, but you couldn’t quite feel his arms on you.

You stopped wiping your eyes for a moment.

No one had ever hugged you before when you were sad.

No one had ever let you be sad.

Adam heard you sob.

Fucking great. He made it worse. What the fuck was he supposed to do then?

But when he went to unwrap his arms, he felt yours slip around his midsection, pulling him closer than before as he grunted from your firm hold.

So you wanted to be hugged? Alright. Whatever.

Adam slowly hugged you back after you muttered a ‘sorry’ and loosened your grip.

The next seconds were silent, so when he heard muffled words coming from you, he looked down. You also looked up moments later when he didn’t respond, realizing he must’ve not heard you.

Your gaze softened as you two held eye contact, and with teary eyes, you smiled. “Thank you, Adam.”

Something about his expression changed, but before you could stare any longer, you felt a hand behind your head push you back to his chest as the arm on your back held you tight.

“Yeah, whatever…”

[glossykissies]

thinking about what reader i’d pair with soldier boy and it only feels right he gets handed spoiledbrat!reader. bratty, high maintenance, pouty. soldier boy might’ve been a god-like supe with damn near all the power in the world, but at the end of the day he was also a man… and you were packaged to him like a god damn fantasy.

it was so conflicting to him, you were simultaneously everything that got him off in a woman all while challenging his beliefs. feminine, soft, supple, pink and glittering — sure, but also you had the craziest attitude, you swore like a sailor and you were demanding. it made his fists clench, and dick swell.

the first time he’d been introduced to you with the boys, having found yourself wrapped up in their world — you were the only one in the room who he detected not an ounce of fear from. you. the little thing in the corner leaning on her hip, more interested in her nail bed than the banished supe.

immediately, and much to butchers irritation (he was pushed for time, and trying to stay on track here.) soldier boy focused his attention on you, taking a draw of his cigar from the couch in the hide-out apartment.

“and who’s this pretty little poodle? you fellas let a fan tag along?” his voice is smooth and rumbly like wheels on gravel and you raise a perfectly plucked brow.

“please.”

he hums out a chuckle, not hiding the way his eyes drag up and down your body. he was used to just taking what he wanted, his time being one of those things.

“so if we could just—” hughie steps forward cautiously, attempting to regain the supes attention to get things back on track but is immediately silenced by soldiers boy lifting a hand, eyes still on you.

“no really. what’s the deal with strip-club-barbie? i have met all of you cock suckers but she’s new. if she’s not a welcome gift, what the fuck is she doing in here listening in?”

“shes one of us.” butcher gruffs, shuffling in his chair, antsy to start explaining his diabolical plans.

“yeah? what’s her thing? you fellas passin’ her around in whatever fuck-dungeon you hole up in?” he teases, and before anyone can say anything — you’re defending yourself.

“jesus christ, get with the fucking times, old man.”

soldier boy smirks, and a tense silence falls over the room — half expecting to watch you get thrown through the thin walls of the apartment at record breaking speed. surprisingly, after he’d taken an amused and analytical gaze your way — he leisurely turned his attention back to butcher. “alright, out with this plan. don’t have all day.” he drawls, taking another drag. you roll your eyes at the fact he literally has nothing else to do, and you’re sure he notices.

most of your interactions went that way after that. soldier boy would make some kind of demeaning or misogynistic comment, you’d snap back, he’d either be amused or weakly threaten you. it was like clock work, but seem to put everyone on edge every single time.

there were many times the boys thought you were done for, hurling names and insults at him when he’d caused them more harm than good — only to have him stroll right past you, uninterested in your girly tantrum and not even struggling to totally ignore you. sometimes you would irritate him, only to get a “brats like you need to be put in their place. i’m warning you.” and maybe he’d smirk because he could just sense your little clit twitching.

there was even a time all of you had to pile into one car, getting away quickly after a mission gone south. you were the last in, and there were no seats left for you.

“just fuckin’ get in would ya?” billy commanded loudly, trying to keep an eye on the oncoming commotion. soldier boy smirks, completely suited up, damn near taking up two seats in the backseat and pats his thigh, spreading his legs.

“i am not sitting on him. someone get in the trunk.” you argue, crossing your arms all spoilt.

“just grab her!” hughie exasperates from the passenger seat, used to your ways. without hesitation, soldier boy yanks you into the car with ungodly strength, pulling the door shut as they drive off. you wriggle and fight until he’s got you situated — the mountain of a bulge pressed up against your panties beneath your skirt, legs spread a little on his lap.

you give him a sulky look over your shoulder, and despite the chaos in the front of the car — he’s utterly relaxed and unbothered by everything that just unfolded. in fact, he leans back with that same smirk — adjusting his hips, nudging the fat lips of your pussy open through your panties with his bulge. he watches your eyes nearly roll back like a baby-doll.

you turn back to the front, irritated and overstimulated, breathing all heavy and mad. never in all his years has he seen a woman fight against her urges like you were. he puts his hands on your hips and you dig your nails into his skin, sustaining no damage. you scratch harder, tearing and attacking him like a baby kitten and he gazes happily out the window, unmoved.

you try to chime into the conversation up front, try to stay tuned — but everytime butcher carelessly flies over a speed bump you’re being practically forcefully dry fucked by the supe. you’re sure he could even feel you leaving a wet patch — and surprisingly, when you all pile out the vehicle solider boy doesn’t bring it up. the gratification of flustering you enough to keep him happy.

the breaking point comes when you’re appointed to ‘babysit’ him back at the hiding apartment. literally no one else is free, but they need someone there to make sure he’s where he needs to be. there’s nothing you could do to stop him from leaving, but whilst he agreed to stay there — you were sticking around to make sure he keeps his word, strictly told to alert one of the boys if he exits.

“look, i’m sorry. i would take your place but i have to help annie.” hughie stresses apologetically as they walk you up to the building.

“i’ll be fine.” you roll your eyes, more irritated that you were missing your nail appointment for this shit.

“and keep that mouth in check, yeah? i don’t fancy scraping your intestines off the walls so keep a lid on it today.” butcher warns, sending you a look before you run off.

when you walk in, he’s chowing down on a burger. so american.

“well if it isn’t my favourite.” he drawls, more interested in the TV.

“whatever. i’m here to babysit you.” you sark, setting down your purse and rifling through it for your phone charger, spotting the pink wire tangled at the bottom of your bag.

“babysittin’ huh? you certainly had the sitting part down last time i saw you. maybe today we can work on the baby part.” he chuckles at his own joke, bringing the mouth of his beer bottle to his lips.

“shutup. you know i had no choice.” you don’t know why you get so defensive, strutting over to block his view of the television — staring down at the hulk of the man resting with his feet up.

“that why i could feel your little pussy throbbing? beggin’ me to help her out? christ, maybe if you got some dick you’d quit bitching all the time.”

maybe he was right.

it’s how you end up blubbering on your back with the backs of your knees in his huge hands.

“shit, maybe i’ve been missin’ a trick with this young pussy stuff. fuckin’ perfect.” his heavy cock brushes your folds as he stretches your legs up into a humiliating pose, not caring for your sniffles and angry pouts. he pushes your knees up higher with an intrigued smirk. “you’re flexible, huh? what, were you a cheerleader in high school or something?”

“are you gonna fuck me or what?” you whine, so needy and petulant that it makes him smile.

“you modern girls. no patience.” he slaps his cock on your folds and you flinch. “relax. only polite to knock before i enter, right?”

[diejager]

Can i make a request?

i thought of this yesterday what about y/n or the reader has been in 141 for 2 years now and one day 141 gets a new member konig but y\n or the reader is 26 and konig is 19 i feel like this has to be done😍😍

also konig: shy,sweet,tall,big,puppy like for the reader

reader: small,short,sassy,mommy🤭🤭

PLEASEEEE!!!!!

Young Cw: major canon divergence, bullying, intimidation, beating, protective reader, tell me if I missed any.

He hated attention, having people stare at him because he was tall —unnaturally so, towering over everyone despite his young age and timid and anti-social demeanour. He was grateful, really, after Laswell called in some favours to have him transferred from his platoon to a British Task Force as a trainee, someone on probation while he trained and learned how to integrate with the team. He worked well with them, the tall and muscular battering ram that opened up a path and shocked the enemy, working flawlessly beside to team, and yet, he couldn’t work up the energy or want to socialise with them, to open himself up and let them see the raw and softer part of his mind.

That, however, was the least of his problems, they were cordial - nice - with him, Soap and Gaz even went out of their way to include him in their banter, throwing jokes and good-minded laughs, Price acted as the protective figure of his team and extended it to him, Ghost - ever silent and glaring - didn’t mind looming over others and growling orders when someone overwhelmed him, and you were no stranger to threats and blackmail to get someone off his back. His problem, the biggest one, were the envious glares and insulting hisses older soldiers threw at him in hushed tones and occasionally glances when he found himself alone, either training or walking around.

Even in a place where he could let out all his aggression and pent up frustration, he was still victim to bullying, verbal rather than physical, no one would dare lay a hand on him when he was the youngest of the Task Force and under their protective eye. Despite the shielding from brutality, other men still found time and places to openly beat him down with demeaning and aggressive words, belittling his exploits, his awards and all his hard work to escape the hell of his little village (his Mutter was the only exception, he willingly went back on Holidays to see her).

“Look at that giant freak. Reckon he’d break if we put too much weight on him.”

“Bastard’s only here because he’s tall, that’s all he’s good at.”

“Aye, makes sense, never liked him. He might be a nepo baby, pop’s probably a powerful man.”

His Vater was a piece of shit that left him long before he was born, leaving his Mutter to fend for herself and rot away to feed and provide for him until he joined the army to care for her.

He didn’t want to give them more fuel, to retaliate meant more bullying, he learned that the hard way as a child. All König could do was take and take until they got bored, walking away from him to busy themselves with something else. That didn’t mean he didn’t get mad, frustrated or insulted, his hands curling into fists to hold itself back from pummelling them, they were his superiors, he’d be discharged or thrown out for hitting his superiors, especially since he was a foreigner and still new.

“Fuckin’ bastard is glaring.”

He was unknowingly glaring at them, he couldn’t help it, then he turned away, his gaze wandering to the floor before they’d escalate it. He heard one of them spit something out before he stomped towards König, shoulders and chest pushed out to seem bigger than they actually were in an attempt to intimidate him. Standing before him, he felt someone raise their fist, ready to strike him for simply glaring at them after months of being subjected to their intimidation. He was ready to stop them if needed, not a pushover or someone who’d take a beating quietly, eyes cued on the raised arm of an older man, but then he fell, moaning loudly as he fell to his knees.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing, huh?!” You appeared behind him, yelling out at the man you just kicked.

They were as surprised to see you, their faces draining of colour as the others scrambled to come up with an excuse. You snuck up on him as much as you did on them, using his height and size to your advantage to land your blow. You moved to stand before him, a shield to a man as tall as he was, protecting him with a vicious glare and damning words, and somehow, he found himself gripping onto the back of your jacket, your name printed on the back and the Task Force’s insignia on your sleeve.

“He was disrespecting us, Lieutenant!”

You didn’t hold back your disbelief, scoffing so loudly that other people had turned their attention to your group.

“Disrespecting? Do you take me for an idiot, Corporal? I’m no blind,” your words were silencing, sending them panicking for another reason to excuse their actions, something disbelieving or idiotic, “This isn’t the first time I’ve written you up to HR, Corporal Matt, Davis, Brown. You’ve done this many times with other operators, especially to König.”

“That’s because-”

“Save your fucking excuses and fuck off!” You nodded away, watching them scramble off.

Glee and smugness filled him, a disgusting feeling that he couldn’t help but enjoy, even as you huff and turn to look at him, head craned upwards to meet his eyes with soft adoration. You were always so warm and caring, as if you weren’t made to be the ruthless killer people made you out to be, but he’d seen you kill, the cold and calculated look in your eyes when you were deployed. You patted his arm, a smile gracing your lips as you reassured him that they wouldn’t bother him anymore.

”Time for dinner, yeah?”

He learned the next day that they were transferred to another base, seen packing up their bags with black eyes and bruises littering their bodies. Sparring, he heard from whispers, from one at to another, the word spread and he found his days quiet and anxiety-free.

“Danke, Leutnantin.”

“You know my name, König. I think you’ve earned the right to say it.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi

[yandereunsolved]

"Don't Stop Me Now" — Five situations where yandere Five loses it

cw(s): yandere themes, non-descriptive self harm, mention of suicide and domestic violence

1 — someone ✗ something is trying to harm you

Pretty straightforward. 

This is the numero uno that comes along with every yandere.  

Five grew up with an abusive, emotionally absent father figure. He was pushed to be the best, the most successful of his siblings, just for an ounce of affection. He was isolated for so many years with nothing more than a department store doll. He has had to put away whatever loose morals he had to slave away in The Comission.

Then you come along and brighten up his life. No, you do more than that. You perfect it. 

Then someone comes and tries to strip that away from him?

It's safe to say you've only seen that crazed look in his eyes when you're in danger. He doesn't care about whatever mission, the greater good, or whatever the fuck when you may end up being killed. He's swift and merciless, just as he was taught. 

After he makes sure you are okay, he'll hold you to his chest for what feels like forever. He just needs to become secure again in the fact you are alive. You are here with him right now. It helps ground him so he doesn't end up going about on a killing spree. 

Yes. That has happened one too many times. 

Klaus now knows not to joke about random people flirting with you. Their spirits won't stop harassing him. In his defense, how was he supposed to know Five would just go out and slowly torture them before letting them waste away into death? Klaus didn't think Five was that unhinged. He knows better now.

2 — you harm yourself (in any way)

He keeps an observant eye on you, so it would be a miracle if you managed to accomplish anything along those lines. 

Two words. no. more. 

He has the internal breakdown. He's just standing there and staring at you. There are tears in his eyes. He wants to yell, to freak out, but his voice cracks far too much when he tries to reprimand you. 

No. Just no. 

That's the only word that encapsulates how he feels. 

He is not going to allow you to hold any sharp objects. He makes sure you have no contact with Diego. Five is paranoid and suspects that Diego had something to do with this. Somehow. 

You are more strictly monitored. 

He has an entire list of mental and physical health questions he asks you each morning. If you tell him to leave you alone or that you are tired, there's about a seventy percent chance that he'll go off. It would definitely be in a Five way. 

He'd be teleporting around you and sputtering out statistics and caring yet demeaning words. 

3 — keeping him out of the loop

Five is meticulous. 

When you keep him out of the loop—which could mean not saying good morning to him or hiding a romantic relationship—he feels so powerless again. He needs to know what is going on with you so he can protect you if need be. 

Don't even try to argue with him. 

He's older than you, so he knows best. 

He has so much more experience at anything and everything. He can solve all of your problems if you just let him in. 

Does that mean he will do the same in return? No. 

There's no reason for you to know what he is doing at any point of the day. You don't need to worry your pretty little head about it. Aka, he's doing things that are morally gray at best and human rights violations at... that's still one of the better cases. 

Just tell him. Or he'll force it out of you.

4 — things being out of his control

This ties in with every other scenario. 

He needs to be in control.

Everything has to be perfect. 

If one thing goes wrong, then you may slip through his fingers. 

That isn't allowed to happen. It can't. 

It eats away at him at night to think something could happen that he can't control. 

The apocalypse happened, and he had to spend decades just accepting that fact. Until there was a chance he could change it. 

Now he has to. He has to change, sort, and neatly put away everything. No speck of dust is out of place. If it is, then he'll end up pushing himself into fixing it, to the point of exhaustion or death—whichever comes first.

5 — escaping successfully

The only time there is a plausible chance he will resort to physical violence. 

Why, why, why, why, why, why!?

How could he be so idiotic? How did you do it? Who helped you? 

Whoever helped you is going to die if they haven't already killed themselves because they know Five is going to be coming after them. 

He will act nonchalant, like he is in control, when he finally finds you once again. He'll tease, poke, and prod at your fear, like a ringmaster taming their lion. A part of this act is the truth. He has you back, and now everything can go back to how it was. The other part of him is still devastated and wants to curl up in your lap and just be safe there.

Yandere Five: fragile—handle with care.  

✗ @clarioscharm

[wpdarlingpan]

Ken really does give off Worshipper!Yandere vibes. He’s the type that would think you are literally flawless, the most wonderful and beautiful thing to ever exist and all he wants is for you to look at him

Ken x Fem.Reader

I wanted to expand on Ken so here is a short o little blurb

Warning: spoilers, fast-paced

Ken used to only have a good day of sterotypical Barbie smiled at him or even acknowledged him. That was until almost turning Barbieland into Kendom and taking over her Dreamhouse.

She of course told him to go find himself, make something of him that wasn’t associated with a girlfriend.

He really did try. For a whole 2 days.

That was until he saw Y/N Barbie.

She had been walking past him down the street when he saw her. It was as if a ethereal beauty dropped down from the sky. Well, some Barbie’s did drop from the sky, After all who needs stairs in Barbieland.

Y/N Barbie had a slight distase for the blonde Ken. After all he did brainwash all of her friends into something demeaning. But a part of her realizes he didn’t want to hurt them, he just want to be recognized. He was hurt and when someone’s hurt their actions sometimes aren’t led by logic.

“Hi Ken”

Ken stared at Y/N for a moment, frozen. He snapped out of it and quickly turned on his ‘charm’.

“H-Hi Y/N!” He smiled brightly at her as the girl in question gave him a polite smile and was about to continue on her way before he lightly grabbed her wrist.

“What are you up to today?”

“I was just going to go shopping. I want some new clothes for the party tonight.”

Ken immediately saw the opportunity.

“Can I keep you company?”

Y/N Barbie was hesitant. She heard the whole ‘you aren’t your girlfriend speech’ and she didn’t thing it was possible for someone to move on within two days. But a part of her was battling her, begging her to say yes. After all, Y/N never had a Ken.

“Um… Sure Ken!”

And that was the day everything changed between them two.

Ken followed her around the store. If she even admired it long enough he would grab it and hold it for her. By the end of the trip he had quite a few clothes in his arms but he wasn’t even tired. Only asking if you wanted anything else.

Then you two went out for food.

He took you to the fanciest restaurant in Barbieland. One that the Barbies and Kens would go to on dates which was quite obvious to Y/N but she couldn’t bring herself to mention it.

Then the two of you thought it would be a wonderful idea to go run along the beach. Of course Ken was all for it. He was of course a professional Beacher. The other Barbies, Kens, and even Allen so you guys together and were curious. All with the same thought

“Well that’s new.”

They didn’t mind all too much. Although Allen was slightly concerned. You are the closest person to him and he was worried Ken wouldn’t treat you the best. Of course they are friends, after all Allen is ‘Kens buddy and all his clothes fit him’ but it was a natural platonic instinct to be cautious

Next you shared a ice cream cone and even played a game of Volleyball. It was the perfect day, which was expected in Barbieland. Even when the world had changes it still found a way to be perfect for its inhabitants.

As the shining sun went down Ken finally drove you back to your own dreamhouse for you to get ready.

He had opened your door for you, grabbing your hand to lead you out, and walked you to the door. But he didn’t want to push it for once so he was about to leave. He couldn’t risk losing you like Stereotypical Barbie. Even though he was a lot more nervous for you than he ever was with her.

This time, Ken wrist was the one whose was grabbed.

“Would you like to come in?”

Ken could only stare in shock. Barbie never let him in. Y/N did.

“Yes.”

That was the single word that solidified Kens love, forever. Y/N was his and luckily, they don’t die. So it truly is forever.

[fleshbride]

PRESENTING . . . I HATE U!

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ HAJIME KASHIMO X BLK! F! READER SMUT.

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ CW: one-sided enemies to lovers, rough sex, vaginal fingering, edging, ruined orgasm, degradation, choking, breeding kink, spitting, hairpulling, cervix fucking, size kink, dumbification, overstimulation, dacryphilia, dick drunk y/n & pussy drunk kashimo, pussy slapping, usage of the names princess, angel, baby, slut & whore. soft! kashimo at the end.

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ wc: 3.8k

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ i went a little crazy on this one to be honest. like genuinely, i went crazy and i could’ve done more. i actually loved this smut tbh! mean kashimo <3333

He’s so annoying. It’s the only thought that’s in your mind as you glare at Kashimo Hajime — who might as well be the bane of your existence. He’s staring at you with the nastiest grin on his face; he had just tried to trip you in the library and gratefully, failed. You had quickly noticed his ploy and dodged his foot before he could swipe it underneath yours. “Are you fucking serious?” You snarl to him, plump, glossy lips pulling into a scowl. You two went to the same high school, and now — the same university. You wished that your dislike for each other would’ve dissipated when you two became adults; however, it didn’t.

To you, Kashimo is still as annoying and disgustingly cocky as ever. It’s only gotten worse since high school. He’s taller now — at around 6’4? 6’5? — compared to his teenage height of 6’1. Bulkier too. He still sports the same hairstyle, however; spiky shaggy cyan locks around his shoulders, with two small buns atop his head. His eyes are still that electric color that reminds you of fucking Sprite. As you glare at him, his face stretches into a grin. You curse the way your stomach tightens with attraction. Sure, you despised him — but you couldn’t deny the fact that he was attractive.

“Aw, don’t be mad at me,” he croons, head tilted, arms outstretched into a slight shrug, “I was… stretchin’ my leg, you know?” You tilt your head, pushing your box-braids off of your shoulder as you give him the nastiest stare in your arsenal. “Stretching… your leg. Shut the fuck up, Kashimo. My God.” Your voice is coated in both exasperated and irritation as you snap out, “We aren’t fucking sixteen anymore. Get a grip.” And as you pass him, you grumble out, “Stupid fucking bitch.”

Unfortunately, he hears you. “I beg your fucking pardon?” He questions, gripping your shoulder and spinning you around with little effort. He stares down at you, one perfectly chiseled eyebrow arched. “I’m a what?” Something pools in your stomach as he stares down at you. Your eye-view is with his chest and you have to tilt your head up to properly look at him. Your eyes trail over his face. He looks mad. For once, he drops that cocky ass facade. You made him drop it. A smirk spreads across your face. It’s your turn. “I said, you’re a stupid fucking bitch, Kashimo. I think you heard me the first time.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, unfortunately, I did hear you the first time,” Kashimo lets out a soft laugh as he runs a hand through his locks, eyeing you. It wasn’t his usual demeaning look, however. It was… closer to how you were looking at him. He gives you a small smirk and drops a heavy hand on your head, patting you. “I’ll see you later, ‘kay princess?” And he walks off, without another word, leaving your heart stuttering and mind confused.

It’s later that night when you’re in your dorm room, doing some studying. You’re in a flimsy tank-top and some small shorts that ride up the curve of your ass. Your textbook cracked open as you lay on your stomach, swinging your feet in the air, when someone knocks on the door. Your brows furrow as you question who could even be knocking at this time; it’s 12:13 am. However, you shuffle to your door and unlock it.

Kashimo is standing at the door, in nothing but gray sweatpants and a form fitting t-shirt. He tilts his head at you, looking you up and down. You frown; “What do you want, Kashim—” You’re interrupted by him grabbing your hips and pulling you into him, pressing his lips to yours. You’re shocked to say the least, gasping for air against his lips. Your smaller hands clutch his chest as you break away for a moment. “Kashimo,” you gasp out, staring at him with confusion, “What’re you—?”

“Shut up,” he huffed, picking you up and pulling your legs around his waist. He’s so fucking strong, you’re honestly concerned. “This what you wanted, right? Right, baby?” He was quick to move your textbook to the side, pressing you into the blankets. His hands are squeezing your tits, and your back is arching, and you don’t even realize it, but you’re mewling out, “Yes, yes, yes,” and you know you’ve lost.

“How long have you wanted me, hm?” He asks, as his hands grip the hem of your tanktop, beginning to pull it off of you — you’re all too eager, lifting your arms up, breathing heavy. As he asks you that question, you have to think back in your past. The fleeting glances, the heat that coursed through you whenever he merely touched your skin. “High school,” you murmur, clearly embarrassed as you look away from him. The reality of the situation closes on you; you’re in nothing but your bra and shorts in front of Kashimo, who you hate. (Don’t really hate, it’s obvious now.) And also kissed.

This was splendid.

Your conflicted thoughts are interrupted by Kashimo himself, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck and pulling you forward. “Yeah, I know. You just weren’t gettin’ the fucking hint — baby’s a bit dumb.” His voice is condescending, but drips into your ears like honey. He’s pressing his lips against yours again, pulling you into his lap. You can feel the hardness of his length against your cunt, making you let out a whimper into his mouth. The kiss is messy, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, lapping at yours. He pulls away slightly to nip at your bottom lip, holding your hips down firmly against his body. As the two of you kiss sloppily, you grind your hips down onto him, and he lets out a soft moan. “Fuckin’ slut,” comes his rasped voice, “Pressin’ this pussy against me. Can feel how wet you are through the shorts.” You didn’t realize how wet you were until he said something. Now that you’re noticing it, you can feel your slick, trickling down your cunt, pooling in your panties.

His fingers hook through your shorts and he’s multitasking; pulling them down, down, down while laying you flat on your back against your pillows. His face pressing into your neck, lathering kisses against your neck and throat. His teeth dig into your skin, as Kashimo sucks a hickey onto your skin while his fingers dig into your thigh. His fingers creep little by little to your pussy. Quite frankly, you’re a hypersensitive mess, nerves completely on edge. All at once, everything was moving too fast and too slow for you. “K-Kashimo, are you sure—?” The question leaves your throat, but he’s quick to shush you with his fingers gliding through your cunt. Your legs spread immediately as you whine.

“Shut up, Y/N,” he hisses, index finger circling your engorged clit, “I’ve been waiting for this, and your fuckin’ mouth isn’t gonna ruin it for me.” So, you listen and you watch as he rips your panties, the fabric still clinging to your skin. He peels it off, leaving you in your bra and him fully clothed.

“Shut up, Kashimo,” you hiss, your legs scrunching as he runs his fingers up and down your pussy. “And just fucking touch me.” He gives you a glare, cyan eyes flickering with irritation. “You wanna be touched so bad? Fuck, Y/N, you’re just a nasty whore, aren’t you?” Kashimo grips your thigh and lifts up one of your legs, sliding two of his thick fingers into your soaking cunt. He gave you no time to adjust to the stretch and immediately began to thrust and curl his fingers against your gummy walls. You let out a soft moan, hands gripping the bed intensely as he pumps his fingers into you with no regard for your sensitivity, fingers leisurely, yet quick.

“O-Oh, fuck, w-wait—“ You stumble out, but Kashimo wraps his free hand around your throat, thumb coming up to touch between your lips. You take it without protest, sucking on it and sliding your tongue against it as if it was a dick. “Just a nasty thing,” he utters, eyes heavy with lust as the wet squelches of your pussy fill the room. The rough pads of his fingers are curling just right against that good, spongy spot in your cunt, that makes you whine around his thumb and roll your eyes back.

“So there it is…” He grins, and suddenly his speed increases, making sure his fingers press against that spot every single time. And it’s disgusting the way your back arches and your legs thrash a little, his thumb sliding out of your mouth as your pretty, high-pitched moans fill the room. “Kashi, Kashi, oh shit, ‘m close,” you whimper, gripping his arm as you let out pants and desperate noises.

“Close?” He muses, an eyebrow raising. “Fuckin’ slut, creaming all over my fingers like this. Thought you hated me, hm? You just hated the fact that you couldn’t fuck me, didn’t you?”

Your pride was injured. You didn’t answer, avoiding the question — desperately focusing on your impending orgasm and the way your stomach tightened. You were right there, right fucking there… And his fingers stilled.

You let out an anguished whine as he pulled his fingers out of you. Tears filled your eyes at the loss of your orgasm. “Kashimo, why—?” You choked out, throwing your head back, trying to hold in your tears.

“I asked you a fucking question,” Kashimo snapped at you, before wrapping his lips around his soaked fingers. He released them with a soft pop before reaching his hands up to undo his buns. His hair trickles down the sides of his face like a waterfall. You’d admire him, if not for your ruined state.

He gets on top of you, lifting your back to undo your bra, tossing it somewhere. “I’m gonna ask you one more time, do you fuckin’ understand me? Don’t answer? Don’t cum.” You knew he was mean, but you didn’t know he was this mean. You let out a pathetic whine, disappointed in yourself for succumbing so easily, but you needed it.

You needed him.

So you nod, and Kashimo’s lips curl up as he snaps, “I need to hear a yes.” You let out a weak whine of ‘yes’ and he simpers out “That’s a good whore.” You feel yourself get leagues wetter. He pulls off his t-shirt, and you think you’re salivating when you see his pale abs, perfectly sculpted. He has a body gifted by the gods, a divinely sculpted v-line and a happy trail that reflects his hair.

He grabs your legs, yanking you so that your entire lower half is in his lap as his fingers slide back into your cunt. He’s slow at first, languid, before rapidly snapping into a ruthless pace, his fingers curling inside of you. You’re a mess, gripping the sheets and moaning, your slick soaking his gray sweats. All the while, Kashimo is talking you through it.

“Messy ass pussy,” he hissed out, his other hand pressing a slap to your clit, “Look at the way this hole is taking my fingers. You’re just so eager, aren’t you? Now answer my fuckin’ question, baby. All that hostility was because I wasn’t fuckin’ you, right? Angel jus’ needed that attitude fucked out, didn’t you, Y/N?”

And you’re agreeing, grasping at the sheets as you pant out, “Y-Yes—! Yes, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry— Fuck, right there, please, please, pleeeease… So close, Kashi, s’close.” He smirks at your state, purposely curling his fingers against your g-spot and pressing against it. You almost cum right there.

“So desperate. Just pathetic, Y/N. But I can forgive you.” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal, as if his long fingers aren’t ruining you right now. “Go ahead. Cum.” And as soon as you get permission, you’re letting go — creaming around his fingers as you squeal and tremble, stars dancing in your vision.

And to Kashimo, you look all too beautiful. He has to confess; he had never really hated you like you thought. He was just a dickhead. He was also a sucker for pretty girls like you, he was just bad at showing it. And when you looked like this, mouth open, eyes teary, braids splayed across your bed — God, he’s never wanted you more.

And it’s so visible in the way he’s yanking his sweats and his boxers down, revealing his perfect dick. Even in your orgasm induced haze, you’re sure you’ve never seen a more perfect dick. It has a delicious curve upwards, pale, like he is, but his tip is pink and weepy, precum gliding down the head. He’s neatly shaven, and his balls are heavy. He’s long, too long, tip just shy of his belly button. His girth is about three of your fingers. How are you supposed to take all of that?

You don’t know, nor do you care right now, not when he’s slapping his tip against your clit, making you whimper and spread your legs for him even further. Your hands wrap around his wrists as he goes to cup your tits, nimble fingers pulling at your nipples. “Hajime,” you croon, and the usage of him so off guard that his cheeks turn pink. “Pleeease, Hajime… Need you s’bad, put it in..”

The way you were whining drove him crazy; he couldn’t ever deny you, and he knew it. “Someone’s needy,” he whispered, his voice husky. He was just about as needy as you, and it was evident as his dick throbbed in his hand as he rubbed it up and down your slit before prodding at your entrance.

You let out a gasp at the stretch as he slowly pushed his dick into you, your hands immediately clutching at him, gripping anywhere you could hold. He was stretching you, so much so that tears were budding in your eyes. Your pussy gripped and clenched around him as he slowly filled you up; by the time he was done, you were arching your back off the bed, cries escaping your throat. His tip was pressed against your cervix, making slight pain course through you with every movement, even the slightest ones.

He’s gripping your thighs as he hisses, eyebrows furrowing at the way you’re wrapping around him. “Fuck, Y/N, there’s no way your pussy should be this tight around me…” And you’re nothing but a mess, whimpering as he tries to adjust inside of you, while giving you the time to get used to him.

“I’m moving now,” he said, pulling his hips back so that his tip was the only thing left in you. He slammed his hips forwards and you let out a squeal, your legs scrunching as he began to thrust into you, setting a rough and fast tempo immediately. You were damn near catatonic in your pleasured stupor, his tip nudging your cervix with every thrust. Your mouth hung open as the moans caught in your throat, the euphoria you were experiencing causing them to come out slow and gasped.

“I know, sweet whore, I know,” Kashimo murmured, slotting his lips to yours in a kiss as he grabbed your legs, bringing them near your chest, folding you in half. Every time he pulled out of you, his dick was coated in your messy juices, the sound of him thrusting into you echoing across the room. His hands found your throat, squeezing slightly while the two of you kiss, his hips still rolling into your pussy, which attempted to suck him back in every time he pulled out.

You let out shrill moans into his mouth as he pounded into you, the vein on his dick rubbing against your g-spot, making your toes curl. “R-Right there—!” You whine, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. “Fuck, fuck, Hajime—!” Kashimo chuckled against your lips, hiking your legs up higher.

“Needy girl,” he titters, “So drunk on my dick. You’re close soon, aren’t you, angel? Yeah, I can tell with the way this slutty pussy is clenching ‘round me.” He slaps your clit with his fingers, making you jerk, ecstasy coursing through you.

“Yes,” you whimpered, your stomach tightening as your pleasure nearly reached its peak. “Gonna cum—“

“Don’t cum yet,” Kashimo hissed, looking down at you. “I was gracious earlier when I let you cum on my fingers. But you’re gonna pay for those years of that bratty ass attitude.”

“But—“ You started, but you were interrupted by a particularly rough thrust that had you moaning, legs trembling. He’s trapped you down with his body, one hand around your throat and the other flicking your clit. “But nothing,” Kashimo snapped, hand tightening around your throat, “Fucking take it, do you understand me? And if you cum, it’ll be the last time you do so tonight.”

You let out a pitiful sob, tears filling your pretty eyes as you nod helplessly. Kashimo wishes he could be soft with you; wishes he could coo and kiss your tears, but no — this is what you wanted. You both knew it. So he pressed your legs further against your body as he slams his hips into you over and over like a man mad. All the while, your tears are spilling over as you let out sobbed moans. He thinks his dick gets harder inside of you while watching this show, as you cry out his name and begs to cum.

He should be generous, he should give you grace, but no. No, instead he pummels into you, his hand between your legs moving to press down on your stomach. “Y’feel me, angel? I’m so deep inside of you..” You wail pathetically, black spots dancing on the edge of your vision and your pleasure becoming tinged with pain. He only smirks down at you, before tapping your chin. “Say ahhh….”

You obey, lolling your tongue out, and he spits directly down into your mouth. You should’ve been repulsed, disgusted. But you weren’t. You swallow without even questioning or protesting.

“Good whore,” he praises, and you feel yourself ascend a little. Maybe your good behavior will convince him to let you orgasm.

“P-Please—“ You sob, as your nails dig into his skin, and you suck in ragged gasps of air, “Let me cum… ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, won’t be mean anymore, p-please let me cum..!” His tip nudges your cervix again and you dig into his skin so hard, he begins to bleed. You’re trying your best, you really are, but it’s becoming a struggle. Your pussy is throbbing, your stomach squeezing as you tremble all over.

Kashimo hums as he looks down at you. He just can’t deny you when you look like this. Edges sweated out, eyes filled with tears that spill down your perfect cheeks, all depraved and hungry for him. “Hm… Alright. Make a mess all over my dick, won’t you?”

You’ve never been more relieved to hear such words. You let go, pushed off the edge as your cream coats his length. Your back arches off the bed as you gasp, eyes rolled back. Your mind is a haze and you’re barely there, hanging on by a thread. You collapse onto the bed as Kashimo’s thrusts slow by a margin and he moves back to let your legs drop.

But he’s not finished with you, at all.

“Turn over, Y/N,” he commands you, and when you don’t respond, he grabs you and manhandles you onto your hands and knees. He pressed down on your back, forcing you to dip until your stomach is pressed against the bed nearly, but your ass is perfectly arched for him.

“W-Wait, ‘m sensitive—!” You gasp, as he thrusts into you with reckless abandon, hands gripping your hips. You squeal out a “Haji! Hajime, no more…! Too big—!” But he isn’t listening to you. He’s intent on ruining you to the fullest, and two measly orgasms can’t do that. His hand fists your braids as he slams his hips snugly against your ass, the clapping sound filling his ears with pride. He watches the jiggle of your plump ass as his dick splits you open.

You’re a drooling mess, head pressed into the blankets, muffling your incessant noises. He yanks your head up, snapping out, “None of that shit. Let me hear those slutty moans.” His lip is pulled between his teeth as he lets out a groan. Fuck, he’s getting close. But he wants to make you cum one more time before he does. He releases your hair and watches as you drop like a ragdoll, hands barely fisting the sheets. You squirm a little when he slams against your g-spot, and try your best to crawl away, but you don’t get far. He grips you by your hair and slams you back onto his dick, making you cry out. He’s grabbing you, scooping you up while sitting at the edge of your bed. You’re facing him and he can clearly view your face now.

Your eyes are glassy, mouth open in a small o. He grins. Look at you, reduced to nothing. He’s grabbing your legs while you’re in his lap, and with no care in the world, he begins to drop you down on his dick. You’re letting out noises mixed with a scream and a moan, arms around his back, acrylics dragging at his skin.

“One more, princess,” he’s groaning in your ear, even though you’re unsure how many times he’s pulled out of you. Three, right? You can’t remember; your head is foggy and the only thing you can focus on is the way his tip is pressing against your cervix, the way his big hands are cupping your ass as he drops you down on his dick.

And suddenly you’re gushing, creaming all around him, so hard and so forceful that it makes you collapse against his chest. But he *still isn’t done.* He’s still thrusting into you, his hips stuttering and becoming reckless. “Gonna fill you up, ‘kay?” He groans and you nod, nod, nod, babbling out, “C-Cum in me, please… Want your cum s’bad, wanna be swell with your cum—“

He’s hissing out moans as he slams into your cunt, “Yeah angel, gonna give you a fuckin’ baby with the way I’m gonna stuff you full of my cum—“ He lets out a choked out groan as he grips your hips, holding you down on his dick as he shoots thick, warm ropes of cum inside of you.

You collapse against him and his arms wrap around you, caressing your skin and pressing kisses to your forehead. “Good girl. So good f’me, Y/N..” Your eyes are closing, exhaustion creeping over you, when you hear him say, “Love you.. Gonna take care of you, princess.”

You fall asleep with a smile on your face.

[webshooterrr9]

based on @nymphomatique's nerd!miguel au

CW: afab!reader, nerd!miguel, slapping, oral sex (f receiving), degrading, praise, got carried away, body worship, college students, smut under the cut!!!

"It's good enough, I guess."

Miguel just finished typing up a biology essay for you, his eyes slightly hazy from staring at a laptop for the past 2 hours. You were standing in front of your floor-length mirror, getting ready for the frat party you were planning on attending.

It took everything in his power not to stare at your body. The way the skimpy, black dress hugged your curves was a mouthwatering sight. Your freshly curled hair fell neatly over your shoulders, allowing Miguel perfect vision of your skin under your backless outfit.

His heart is racing faster than ever before as he watches you from the corner of his eyes. He places his laptop back in his backpack, before deciding that he has to say something.

He has to.

"You look... good" he manages to whisper out, half-hoping that you didn't hear it.

"Thanks." it was almost a mindless reply, like you weren't paying much attention to him. "Now get the fuck out."

"W-wait a second," Miguel suddenly gathers some courage as you brush aside his compliment. He knew you were somewhat of a mean girl, but he wanted to see this transaction through. "I... I deserve something - payment for finishing your homework for you."

You turn your head around to look at him, lifting an eyebrow.

"Yeah?" There's a bit of intrigue in your voice, but you're still harsh. He watches as you cross your arms and look at him in a demeaning fashion. It wasn't often that this nerd got the confidence to ask for any sort of reward. "And what exactly do you want? I'm not giving you money."

Miguel is a little shocked that you were willing to hear him out. "I-I'm sorry... I'm just..." He sighs cautiously.

You stare impatiently. He hesitates before forcing out his next words. "I just... I really like the way you look and-" his voice shakes when he notices the rude stare you're giving him. But he won't give up.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Just- you know, for doing your essay for you?" just as quickly as the words leave his mouth, he covers his face in shame. You laugh a bit at how dumb his request is.

"That's it?"

Miguel lowers his hands to look up at you. You can see the embarrassment painted all over his face. "You got all shy just to ask for a kiss?"

Your expression calmed and you relaxed your body language. He looked humiliated, feeling stupid for even asking that from someone as stunning and popular as you.

"Fine. C'mere." you wave him over dismissively.

He's taken by surprise, but doesn't hesitate to cross the room and approach you. His heartbeat is racing faster than ever before. Despite how he towers over you by almost a foot, he's staring down at you with doe eyes, like a lost puppy.

I can't believe I'm doing this.

You raise your hands to gently cup his cheeks, then bring his face in for a small kiss. Miguel's heart leaps into his throat when your lips make contact. It's so casual for you, but it's everything for him. A wave of euphoria washes over him, it's almost too overstimulating - to know he's finally able to kiss you.

He moans quietly and leans forward, trying to deepen the kiss. His mind races, his head spins. He's so giddy that he feels like he's going to die. All he wants now is more... so much more.

Your hands find his chest, pushing him back. His eyes shoot wide as you break the kiss.

"There. You got your reward. Happy?" Your hands rest on your hips while you speak nonchalantly.

"Y-yeah... super happy..." he chuckles nervously and runs his hands through his messy hair. It was kinda hot.

"Can I... can you do that again?"

"No, you've had enough." You return to your mirror, adjusting the little details of your outfit. "You got what you wanted. Now get the fuck out of my room."

"What?" despite how you were typically mean to him, he seemed to be surprised by that. "You can't... just be heartless like that."

That struck a nerve with you. "Heartless? You're calling me heartless?" There's a desperate look in his eyes, but you can tell that he doesn't have much courage to push the issue further. After all, he's just a nerd. But he can't shake the feeling your kiss gave his mind, his heart, his stomach, his cock...

"I did everything you wanted - I did your homework. I want something more... please." His body language shows that he's almost afraid of you and your dominatrix attitude. "Please, just one more."

"God, you're so pathetic..." you sigh, shaking your head. You can't help but laugh at his desperation - he clearly has never touched a woman in his life.

"Please..." he begs once more. "I want it more than anything..."

Something in his voice sends electricity up your spine. This is much more entertaining than that dumb party. "Mm, yeah? More than anything?"

You shove him back, causing him to stumble and fall onto your bed, his back making a thud on your mattress. "I don't think you deserve it, Miguelito... you haven't done anything for it."

His heart leaps into his throat. "I... I'll do anything. Please..."

"I want you to do something for me..." you grin with lowered eyes. "Can you guess what it is?"

"I don't know... I'm nervous." he didn't know what you meant. It made you roll your eyes. I mean come on, he was laying on your bed, with you practically on top of him - how could this dweeb not get the message?

You slap him across the cheek, hard. His cock twitches when he feels the sting, causing his cheeks to burn up in embarrassment. "You want another kiss? You have to earn it."

"Make me feel good."

---------------------------

He lets out a pathetic whimper when you sit on his dick, still clothed by his boxers. You haven't even started moving yet and he's already turning to mush. Virgin loser.

He watches anxiously as you reach for the elastic waistband of his underwear, sexily pulling them off. Fuck. What a sight. Proportionally, his dick is a pretty average size. But there was no way that it would fit all the way in.

A mean smirk forms on your lips as you stare at his boner, palming him gently and eliciting a frustrated whine from Miguel. "Your dick is so fucking pretty..." you mumble. "I don't know why you're so shy about it."

"Wait, re-really? You think so?" no one had ever seen his dick before, let alone call it pretty. His breathing shallowed.

"Mhm." Miguel whimpers again when you begin to stroke him, coating his entire shaft with all the precum he's releasing. "Aww, you poor thing..."

"You're already so whiny and I'm barely even touching you. You're such a baby."

"Please..." he breathes out.

"Please what? Use your words, baby." you don't call him "baby" as a pet name, you're mocking him. He tries to hide his face from you, but you grab his chin and pull it towards you so that you two make direct eye contact.

"Tell me what you want."

"You want me to use you, hm? You wanna be my little sex toy?"

Yes. Yes. Yes. He'd love that.

"Yes... please..." he whispers. He desperately needs your attention, so he'll take anything he can get. He'll be your toy, your lap dog, anything you want him to be. All those nights where he laid in bed alone, jerking off to the thought of someone wanting him, was finally becoming a reality.

Miguel's eyes shoot wide when he sees you lift up your dress, letting your panties drop to the floor. The frat party was long forgotten by you, since this was so much more fun.

"You wanna kiss me, yeah?" You smirk, crawling further onto him. His hardened cock leaks with pre, making you giggle a bit.

You hover over his face. "Then kiss me here."

----------------------------------------

He eats you like a man starved, needy for attention. Your hips roll firmly against his face, his mouth closing around your clit and suckling on it.

"Fuck- Miguel... so good." the nerd groans when your nails scrape at his scalp, gripping his dark hair tightly. His tongue explores every inch of your cunt, leaving behind traces of saliva as he licks and kisses the sensitive flesh.

Miguel feels his entire body tingle with joy. He's so excited to be pleasing you, to prove how good he is for you, that he's completely ignored his own needs. Lucky for him, the sound of your sweet moans are enough to get him off.

His hands grip your hips hard, pulling your wet cunt closer to his face as he feasts. His hands were sure to leave bruises later.

"Mm, god... yes..." he mumbles, the vibrations of his voice making your pussy throb even more. You grind against his face even more feverishly.

"Mig, I'm-" you sigh, trying to contain your moans as he gets more excited with his ministrations. "... 'm so fucking close, baby."

His hands run all over your hips and thighs, worshipping you like the goddess he thinks you are. His dick twitches some more, and his tongue becomes more furious around your hole.

"Mm- fuck!" you let out an unexpected wail as you feel your orgasm wash over you, your mind clouded with white. He eagerly laps up all of your juices, drinking in all of your release.

When you pull away from his face, you notice that he came too.

Miguel snaps back to reality after a moment, his cheeks flushing in a sort of embarrassment. He looks so fuckin' pretty. His hair is all messy, glasses discarded to the side, and of course, your sweet cum coating his puffy lips.

After you've caught your breath, you flash him a wicked smirk. He looks at you in panic. "Wh-What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

You sink down on the bed, lowering your face towards his cock - which was dripping with his release. His face looks worried, he knows what you're doing.

"Since you've been so good for me," you start, letting your lips hover just above his aching cock. "I figured I'd help you out too. It's only fair..."

He was gonna be in for a long night.

Poor little thing. Such a sweet boy.

CREDIT TO @nymphomatique FOR THE NERD!MIGUEL

[milkywaydrabbles]

Omg the Rindou one 🫣

Could you write bf Rin again with #4 kinktober, like maybe after an argument/fight??

A/N: sheesh Rindou got me down bad rn that's crazy. Thank you for the req, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! MWUAH

CW: toxic? (they love each other it's a work in progress), doggy, smacking, demeaning,

Hate Sex x Haitani Rindou

“Fuck you, Rin!” Another loud thwack to your ass accompanied with more wet smacks against your hips.

“That’s what I’m fuckin’ doin’, sweetheart. Or are you too stupid to realize?” He sneered behind you, shoving your face deeper into the mattress as he continued to rail you. Messing with Rindou when he was pissed was already a nightmare on its own. But Rindou when he’s pissed and jealous? You might as well have been arguing with a damn wall all night. He doesn’t like bringing you around to Bonten galas, ever. Not because he’s ashamed, or doesn’t want you around that life--he just can’t stand the vultures eyeing you up like a piece of meat all night. You were hot, the sexiest piece of ass on this side of town if you asked him. They would have to be blind not to notice how attractive you are. But that was the problem: All these men acting like leeches trying to woo you, steal you away from under him. (Of course that’s before they knew you were one of their head benefactors’ girlfriend. Happens too often for his liking).  You weren’t dumb, you knew these men kept throwing themselves at you, with empty promises of riches and a life of luxury, as if you’d ever think about being with them when you had your perfect man already. Even if you continued to push them away, each time Rin caught a glimpse of someone putting their hand on you even for a second it made his blood boil. So, he was already pissed off.

But then there was that one dickhead that wouldn’t back off. And the worst part about it is you allowed it. To your defense really, he mostly just spoke about the business, you wouldn’t dare open your lips to spill secrets but you let him talk anyways. It was seemingly innocent, he never tried touching you, he kept a reasonable amount of space, was always cordial. But he showed his true colors when he knew you weren’t watching. He’d always eye up your tits, or your ass, even being so bold at looking at Rindou right after and raising a glass in his direction with a glint in his eye. The fucking nerve got make crude gestures towards you. And then go right back to conversing like nothing happened. That was the last damn straw. Rindou was seething, seeing red, storming over to you and grabbing you by the arm, mumbling a ‘we’re leaving’ and promptly exiting the entire gala. 

“What is your problem Rin?!” You were frustrated at how he was handling you, and how he wasn’t talking at all. He slammed the door to your shared apartment so hard you swore you heard the hinges creak. “My problem? My problem is you letting that fucking asshole all over you!” He yelled back, pacing around the room. You scoffed, “oh fucking please. He only talked about his fucking business Rin. He didn’t even touch me.” 

“You should have seen the way he was practically eye fucking you, are you kidding? Or are you too stupid to realize?” You walked over to Rin ready to slap him, hand reeling back--only to be caught in his grasp and pulled forward, catching your lips in a heated kiss. It was all tongue and teeth, biting down on your lip to invade your mouth immediately after, taking over your senses.  One thing led to another, bringing you to where you are now, snug underneath him with your ass in the air and him fucking into you relentlessly. 

“You’re mine, do you understand that?” He sounded wild above you, kneading at the globes of your ass before smacking down again, causing you to lurch forward with a yelp. 

“A-and you’re a fucking asshole--ah, fuck!” It was hard to bite back when he was abusing your hole like this. Rin grabbed a fistful of your hair and brought your head up, leaning down over your body slowing down just enough to kiss you again. He liked when you fought him back, Haitani Rindou was never into submissive women and you were exactly his type. Even with his thick cock pumping into your sloppy pussy, you had enough energy to keep up with his dominating kiss. Spit dribbled from your mouths, messy--just how you liked it. A weak hand came up to grip at his jaw, nails biting at his skin as you continued to make out with him, pussy sucking him in deeper. He could feel you tightening around him, hips stuttering for a moment before keeping pace once more. 

“Asshole? Baby if I were an asshole I wouldn’t even let you cum. And this is, what, number three?” He laughed in your face, letting you go completely before straightening himself, hand wrapping around your body to rub at the now swollen and abused bundle of nerves. You practically screamed, body convulsing as he threw you into another orgasm. Rin groaned, quickening his pace regardless of how you tried to create space, feeling overstimulated. “Gonna cum in you, baby--gotta mark you inside out. You’re mine.” He threw his head back, releasing his sticky cum inside you, load so big it seeped out the sides of his dick no matter how plugged up he had you. 

The air felt less tense than it had in the beginning, only panting filled the air for a minute before you spoke. Your voice was small. “..I don’t like when we fight like that, Rindou.” You whispered into the bed, shivering when you felt him place small, innocent kisses on your back and shoulders.

“I know I’m a jealous prick, baby...I’m sorry. I can’t lose you, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” It wasn’t often Rin laid his emotions like this, so raw and vulnerable. You pushed off and managed to turn around under him, cradling his head to your chest and kissing the crown of his head. “I’m not going anywhere, Rin. You have to trust me. Ran’s right by calling you a moron if you think I’m leaving for some dick like that anyways.”

“You talk to my brother?”

“Rindou!”